A Travers les Yeux d'un Fantôme
by itsmyownlife
Summary: Erin Carr is a young intern at the IMF alongside analyst, William Brandt. However as their world comes crashing down, will they be able to put their many differences aside to work w/ Hunt & Co. and accomplish the impossible before its too late?  Brandt/OC
1. Chapter 1

_**This is what happens when one becomes bored on holiday, and takes a trip to the cinema to see Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol. This is also what happens when boredom and random drabbles wind up as a 6,000 something word first chapter. Ahhh, I love boredom. And so, after this meaning preface, I present my latest work: A Travers les Yeux d'un Fantôme (Through the Eyes of a Ghost)**  
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_Erin. _ The lights are dancing around me, floating softly on waves that rock me back and forth, back and forth. There's a ringing—a bell, I think. It rings, its clanking tone fading in and out slowly. Then a pulse. The bell sounds again, the clanking louder this time. Another pulse. _Erin. _Another pulse, this time harder. I become aware of a dull throbbing pain in the center of my chest. _Erin._ The pain increases sharply, constricting my chest as it moves towards my throat, tightening until I cannot bear to breathe. _ERIN! _Another sharp pulse in the center of my chest and then…

I sit bolt upright, coughing heavily. My heart thuds heavily in my chest as I try to digest the overwhelming number of questions that rush into my mind in the space of an instant. _What happened? Where was I? Why was I wet? _At last, the initial wave of shock gave way to understanding, and a series of images began to reappear in my mind. _Gunfire. A stone bridge. Glass floating in the air around me. The descent of the car towards dark water below before everything went black. _

"Erin, do you hear me? Answer me."

I sat there unmoving, my mind racing to connect the dots.

"Damn it, Erin!"

My senses cleared as something cold and hard collided with my face. I shook my head, clearing my remaining drowsiness, as I glared towards my assailant. As my vision twisted into focus, I found myself staring back into a pair of frantic and frustrated blue eyes. I frowned as I recognized those eyes, my stinging cheek smarting.

"You slapped me," I mumbled, unsure whether I was more shocked or pissed. I stared back at Brandt as a sarcastically fake look of concern crossed his faced. _Mm, definitely more pissed. _

"Sorry to disturb you princess," he retorted, frowning as he stood and adjusted his sodden coat, "We have to go. Up. Now."

Still dazed, I rocked forward onto my hands and knees, a sharp pain shooting up my arm from my left wrist. As I readjusted my weight onto my right arm, a firm grip lifted me of the ground and onto my feet. I swayed slightly but held my ground. We were standing in a train yard, somewhere outside of town. I could hear nothing but the distant echoes of warning bells clanking. I took a step forward, my legs feeling as if they might give out.

"Can you walk?"

This time the voice came from a familiar looking man standing besides Brandt. Though dazed, I did not fail to notice how attractive he was, from his bright blue eyes to handsome dimples that formed on flushed face. Like Brandt and myself, he too was soaked from head to toe, his dark hair falling wet locks against his forehead. Though here was less irritation in his voice, there was a similar sense of urgency in the words that he spoke. I nodded, taking another slow step forward as if to prove my point. The man glanced towards Brandt, his pale eyes concerned. The analyst blinked in response, adjusting his suit coat against the cold. The silence was pierced by a dull rattling in the distance—a train approaching from the eastern end of the yard. The man glanced over his shoulder towards the sound, his eyes surveying his surroundings.

_The secretary. The crash. The Kremlin bombing. The man in the car. _The man before me now. _Ethan Hunt. _My mind raced back and forth between the images, attempting to put two and two together.

"This way," he stated, setting off in a brisk walk towards a set of rusted tracks in the distance, "It's a green car."

Brandt exhaled slowly besides me before setting on the same brisk pace after Hunt. By now, my senses had recovered enough to feel the cold air around me. If I had to guess it was no warmer than 50 degrees or so. I shivered, wishing I hadn't bothered to remove my suit jacket in the car. I hurried after the men, their pace closer to a slow jog than a brisk walk.

"I don't get," Brandt started, following Hunt over a set of rusted tracks, "Why would that work? I mean, so what's your scenario? There's a guy being shot at in the water. All of a sudden he decides to light a flare and swim around?"

Hunt nothing as finally paused near an abandoned railway car. Brandt came to a stop next to him, panting slowly.

"What did you assume they were thinking?" Brandt finished.

Hunt exhaled loudly.

"I didn't assume they were thinking," he began, looking towards both ends of the train yard, "I assumed they were shooting."

"You just gave them a target," I added, walking forwards to stand besides Hunt.

He glanced towards me, a small impressed smirk working its way onto his face.

"Exactly."

Brandt remained several paces behind us, his arms still crossed.

"Yeah, of course," he mumbled under his breath.

The dull rumbling of the approaching train increased sharply as the first car of the train thundered across the tracks in front of us.

"Green car you said?" Brandt yelled over the tracks.

Ethan nodded, his eyes fixed on the train. I watched each car as it passed, straining my eyes to catch anything green. Save a few patches of graffiti, the trains, like most else in the yard, was brown, gray, or dingy orange color. I looked down towards the end of the passing train, the adrenaline causing me nearly forget everything—the cold, the pain, even my current predicament—save my newly found desperation to find the green car. In the distance I could see the end of the train. _No green… _I frowned, my heartbeat pulsing loudly in my ears. A grinding screech echoed through the yard as a second train entered on the tracks behind the first.

"There!"

Ethan and I looked up towards the direction of Brandt's hand. There, disappearing and reappearing between the final cars of the first train, was a green car. As the first train cleared the tracks in front of us, Brandt and Ethan broke into a dead sprint across the yard. I followed close behind, willing my legs to move as fast as they could. _Thank god for those Zumba classes Tiff had dragged me to. _I hadn't sprinted like this since first semester club track at Georgetown. _Note to self: should I survive, must write thank you note to Tiff. _My thoughts were interrupted as a green car rattled past me in the opposite direction. _Wasn't that.._

My thoughts were interrupted as I nearly collided with the two men ahead of me.

"This way!" Ethan shouted, sprinted behind me towards the car.

"Come on!" Brandt shouted, rushing past me.

My shoulder twinged unpleasantly as he grabbed my forearm, pulling me behind him as we sprinted to catch the train. When we were an arms length away from the train, Brandt let go of my arm, and I grabbed hold of the train. Ahead of me, Ethan began pressing buttons on a silver pad of the car door.

"Look out!"

I let go of the train, my arm grazing the metal column with which I had almost collided. My brief moment of relief faded as instantly as it had appeared as I raced to catch back up with the train. The blue light issued from the silver pad at Ethan's left as a glass case of some sort immerged.

"What is that?" I shouted, jumping away from the train to avoid colliding with a second metal pillar.

"Retinal Scanner!" Brandt yelled, more towards Ethan than I.

Ethan swore under his breath as he attempted to look into the case. Between his shaky grip and the trains jerking motion, he struggled to maintain a steady gaze. Beyond us, I could see the end of the train yard. My heart froze. _He can't make it. _The train was headed for a tunnel cut out of a heavily graffitied wall. Even from here, I could tell train would clear the tunnel by no more than a foot on either side. If Ethan failed much longer, we risked colliding with the cement wall ahead. I frowned as the scanner emitted a red light for the second time in row. _We weren't going to make it. _

"Pole!"

I jumped backwards again, nearly losing my footing on the gravel beneath my feet. I reached for the train again, grasping for the cool metal handle. The wall was closer now. _Much closer. We weren't going to make it. _

"Go!"

I jumped backwards away from the train out of instinct. However, as I sprinted to regain my hold on the train, I noticed the light on the train now shone green. The green door slid open as Brandt clambered into the train. Steadying my grip on the train, I pulled myself off of the ground. The wall was not more than a couple hundred off now. Ethan nodded at me, nudging me gently towards the train. My grip unsteady, I slid slowly along the car towards the open door. _Don't look down. Don't let go. Don't look down. Don't let go. _My foot slipped on the shallow ledge. I caught myself, my body colliding with the side of the train as it did so. Below me, my foot dangled precariously close to the gravel tracks that threatened to snag and pull me from the train. I felt a hand on my back.

"Almost there!" Ethan said, pulled me back up to stand on the ledge.

My right hand now rested on the entrance to the doorway. I taking a deep breath, I swung myself into the opening. I collided hard with the cold metal floor as a loud thud sounded to my left. I pushed myself up in time to see Ethan's feet slide under the door and the train yard vanish behind the tunnel wall. The door shut behind us with a resounding clank. I lay facedown panting, my chest and legs burning. In an instant a bright light illuminated the space and, though facedown, I heard the unmistakable click of a loaded gun above near my head. There was a pause.

"Jesus, Ethan," came a British voice, "We thought you were dead."

I sat up slowly, taking in the sight in front of me: a short red-haired man whose gun appeared entirely too large for his awkward figure, and a strikingly beautiful woman who dark eyes glared towards us. Unlike the man, she appeared entirely capable of using her weapon, and I had no doubt, if given a reason, she would gladly unload in the intruders who stood before her. I swallowed, slowly rising to my feet. Besides me, Brandt did the same. Ethan, already on his feet, made his way to a screen mounted on a table in the center of the room.

"Who's this?" She asked, turning her gun towards Brandt and I.

"William Brandt, chief analyst for the secretary," Ethan stated, fishing in his pocket as he gestured towards Will, "And Erin…"

"Erin Carr," I responded, "global relations coordinator and assistant to the chief analyst."

"Um, aren't you still currently an intern, Carr?" Brandt mused under his breath, removing his suit jacket.

I grinded my teeth together, glancing towards Brandt. I swear, that man made me want to my high school days sometimes, where personal snipes and incessant bitching were considered acceptable, if not required.

"Oh I'm sorry Will," I drawled, "Was surviving an assassination and subsequent car crash not enough to qualify for a full time position?"

The Englishman interrupted the retort I'm sure Brandt was planning.

"Assassination?" he repeated, turning towards Hunt, "Ethan, what..?"

"The secretary is dead," Ethan responded.

The Englishman's face fell immediately. The woman cast her eyes towards the ground. For a moment the car was silent, save the dull rattling of train. Ethan retrieved what looked like a flash drive from his pocket and placed it on the table. Without break the silence, he placed a pair of headphones over his head and leaned over the table. I glanced between the other three inhabitants of the car. The Englishman had replaced his gun and now stood besides the woman, clearly shaken. The woman still held her gun as she stared distantly towards nothing in particular. The silence was broken as a voice broke out over the speakers. A man appearing to be in his early forties appeared on the screen.

"This man is Kurt Hendricks, better known by the name Cobalt. Earlier this afternoon, Hendricks infiltrated the Kremlin and stole bomb codes to _. The bombing was used to conceal this threat."

Ethan turned slowly to face us, his grey-blue eyes scanning the four faces before him.

"The secretary is dead. The president has issued ghost protocol: the entire IMF has ben disavowed. The five of us are all that remains of the IMF. No safe house, no support, no extraction. We have nothing but the contents of this train. If any of you want out, now is the time."

Ethan paused, watching us slowly. His two partners exchanged a short glance before turning back to Ethan. I inhaled deeply. _My memory had become much clearer from my initial awakening several minutes before. I ran through the train of events that had transpired this evening, using each to way my options._

_The Kremlin had been bombed._

_Russia had just endured what they believed as an undeclared act of war. Now, whether war itself was imminent, I was damn sure Russo-American politics were not as cordial as they had been half a day earlier. _

_The IMF had been blamed and disavowed._

_Though I still an intern as my colleague had duly noted, I had been guaranteed a future job with the agency—by the secretary himself no less. Without the IMF, I no longer had a job. I had nothing. I had no references, no corporation to cite as previous work experience—no professional future. And, future aside, I lacked funds, security clearance, and without either, I would remain stranded in Russia. _

_The secretary was dead. _

_His death had been no accident. It was too well timed and planned to be the work of a private hit. Had it been a private hit to begin with, an open gun shoot-out on a public street would have attracted too much attention. No, this was a sanctioned hit, one the government had approved. The government had clearly moved beyond peaceful conversation, and if they had no reason to believe the secretary of all people, what reason did they have to believe me? _

_I had nothing. No job, no way home, and no future. _

I stared hard at the floor. To my left I heard Brandt make a sound. While I knew he had been weighing his options, I doubted they were any more optimistic that my own at the moment. I glanced towards him. He looked up, hesitating as if he were about to speak, before falling silent once again. For a moment his blue eyes met my own and I could see the fear and uncertainty we both shared in our current predicament. He looked away, staring towards the floor once more.

"Our target," Ethan began after a pause, "Is Kurt Hendricks, better known as Cobalt. He believes he can achieve world peace through a nuclear holocaust. Today, Hendricks successfully infiltrated the Kremlin, stealing a nuclear launch-control device and using the bombing to frame IMF and cover his tracks. However, the device cannot function without launch codes."

I listened intently, attempting to commit as much of Hunt's plan to memory. _At least I'd have an idea what was going on. _He described the exchange that would take place between Hendrick's man Wistrom and Moreau, an assassin who would exchange the codes for diamonds. Our job, was to intercept the codes before Hendricks. Brandt snorted besides me.

"And, uh, how do you propose that we do that?" Brandt remarked.

_Though cynical as always…he had a valid point. _

"We take them out," the woman responded, her tone hard.

The Brit nodded quickly in approval.

"Right. We take them out. But, you know, discreetly."

Brandt raised an eyebrow.

"Discreetly?" he repeated, not bothering to hide his skepticism. He returned to staring at the wall. "Of course," he mumbled under his breath.

The Brit turned back to Hunt, exuding an air of excitement as he clapped his hands together.

"So where to Ethan?"

"The Burj Khalifah in Dubai," he responded, "That's where we will intercept Moreau and Wistrom. We get our man, or we don't come back at all."

_Dubai. In the United Arab Emirates. No big deal. _I stared at the four people around me, only to find that I appeared to be the sole person surprised. With his final warning, the meeting appeared adjourned. Brandt stood up, moving to speak with Ethan while the woman moved towards the sleeping quarters at the far end of the car. The Brit, a lopsided grin plastered on his face, approached me, offering me his hand.

"Benji Dunn," he beamed proudly, "Don't believe we've met before."

He pulled me to my feet.

"And you've met Ethan, of course. And that's Jane. Jane Carter. Don't believe you've met her yet. She can be a bit intimidating at first, I know. She scared me too at first."

"I can hear you Benji," came a female voice. Jane reappeared from behind a corner, approaching Benji and I slowly. Her intimidating demeanor faded as she flashed a brilliant smile.

"Ignore Benji," she laughed, "He's been known to ramble occasionally."

"It's not rambling, Jane," Benji huffed, "I'm merely attempting to make our new partner feel more confortable by—"

Jane cut him off with a wave of her hand.

"Erin, right?" she said.

I nodded.

"Here," she said, pushing a piles of dry clothes into my hand, "I think this will fit you. We're about the same size."

I smiled, taking the clothes.

"You can change back there if you want," she said, pointing to sleeping quarters.

A thin curtain offered a slightest bit of privacy. However, my eagerness to shed my cold sodden clothes overrode decency in an instant. I pulled my wet top over my head tossing it to the floor. _Thank god for pants. _One of the few days I had opted for pants instead of a skirt, they had been incredibly handy. I pulled them off after my top tossing them aside.

"Damn Carr, just take it all off why don't we?"

I jumped, clutching the dry t-shirt to my chest I as I turned to find myself facing Brandt. He was leaning against wall across from me, a smug grin working its way across his face. My cheeks burned.

"Why the hell are you back here, Will?" I hissed.

He smirked, raising the dry clothes in his hand.

"Kinda obvious isn't it?"

He threw the clothes onto the bunk beside him, turning his back to me. I furiously yanked the shirt over my head, grabbing the pants beside me.

"Guess Victoria doesn't have a secret anymore, eh?" Brandt mused under his breath.

I exhaled loudly, my cheeks burning. _Good day for pants…bad day for lingerie. _

"Shut up, Brandt," I growled, pulling the pants over my hips and tying the drawstring tight.

Will snorted in response, tossing his wet shirt to the ground. I frowned as it landed on my foot.

"You dropped this," I drawled, mustering as much faux concern as I could.

I turned back to him, my innocently concerned air fading as quickly as it had appeared. _Damn. I mean, I suppose I didn't think he was scrawny. But… _ My eyes trailed slowly down his chest, taking in the lines of his chest and abs as the reconnected into a 'V' that stopped short of the low riding sweats he now wore. My cheeks growing hot, my eyes rested on the tattoo on his upper arm—a crest of some sort. I could almost feel those arms wrapping around my waist. Those strong hands trailing along my hips. _That body…_ _NO. ABSOLUTELY NOT. Not in the midst of this of this hell. Not now. Not ever. And certainly not with William Brandt. No. Absolutely not. Ever… Ever. Ever. Ever….Ever. _

"What, thought I spent all day chained a desk, Carr?" Brandt mused, catching my gaze.

I stared hard at the ground, hating myself…_and his damn personal trainer_. I shook my head, biting my inner cheek to get rid stupid smirk I had allowed to cross my face. I threw his shirt back at him.

"Aw, thank you Carr," he cooed, smiling.

"Yeah," I responded, gathering my wet clothes into a large ball as I left him behind me.

I walked back towards the center of the train, dumping my clothes into a plastic bag near the door. Ethan was now hunched in the corner of the room, speaking in a low voice into a telephone. Jane leaned against a wall near the door while Benji moved back and forth around the car, piling and stuffing various objects into black canvas bags.

"Yep," Jane drawled, walking towards me, "I was right. Same size."

She draped her arm over my shoulders, turning us to face Benji. The Brit paused, his grin widening.

"Oh look at you two. You could be twins now. Well not identical, 'cause Jane's older. Not like _old _old, but, older than you, you know?" He glanced between the two of us, "Actually, never mind. Scratch that last bit. More like sisters. Like Jane is your older sister."

He hesitated, scratching his head.

"Look at that," Ethan mused, standing up from his crouch, "You two could pass as sisters."

"I've always wanted a sister," Jane laughed, smiling as she moved to join Benji, who had since returned to giddily shoving various objects into duffel bags.

_Mmm, yes, if I were a sultry supermodel who sauntered around dark corners at night. _I glanced at my reflection in reflective metal lining the opposite wall. We were certainly similar: same skin tone, similar bone structure, similar eyes. _I mean, free drinks had never been much of a problem for me. Men hadn't been either, for that matter… _I shrugged, smiling slowly. Ethan flashed me a handsome smile, his dark hair falling low into those clear blue eyes of his. _Jeez, were all IMF agents ungodly attractive? _ He watched me slowly, the smirk never leaving his eyes. The brief exchange was interrupted as Brandt reentered the main room.

"So, uh, how are we supposed get from Moscow and Dubai?" he asked, crossing his arms as he reclined against the wall.

Ethan turned to towards Brandt, leading him over to the television screen where he produced a digital map of the region. I stood alone while the four shuffled back and forth through the car. It felt like a dream. _Some twisted, stressful dream. _Even now, I half expected myself to wakeup in my apartment, at some odd hour in the morning. I would probably just get up then—it wouldn't be worth the couple of hours of shoddy sleep I would manage before my alarm went off at 4. I'd make a cup of tea and get dressed, cursing the commute to DC before it even began. I'd probably make it to work earlier though, and time to stop at that café on the corner of 14th and Massachusetts. _And the secretary would be alive, and I would have a job, and the Kremlin would not be destroyed and all would be grand. _I half believed it, but I had seen everything I knew crumble before my own eyes. I exhaled slowly, walking towards the counter when Jane and Benji stood.

"Do you need any help?" I asked.

Benji nodded, shoving what looked like hiking gear into a bag. _What was he expecting us to climb in DUBAI? _Benji seemed to notice my doubts for his sanity.

"You never know," he shrugged, shoving a pair of goggles into the bag, "Always want to be prepared."

He paused, exhaling loudly as he gestured to a series of steel drawers built into the wall.

"If you would, you can start by sorting through those drawers over there," he chirped, handing me a canvas duffel bag. "Jane?"

Jane nodded, taking the bag from me as she crossed the car to the drawers. I exhaled again, taking a deep breath before I followed.

We finished packing the bags sometime near 3 a.m.. I exhaled, pushing myself up to sit on the counter. Benji double-checked the drawers, ensuring nothing 'absolutely necessary' was neglected. Ethan scanned the bags, arranging and repacking the objects Benji had over packed into duffels. Jane and Brandt stood against the far wall.

"I think we're done," Ethan stated, running his hands through his hair, "Any necessary adjustments will be made in the morning. For now, I think it would be best for us to catch up on sleep before tomorrow."

Benji exhaled, rummaging through a final drawer before tossing it shut. Standing up straight as he adjusted his sweater, he clapped his hands together, gesturing towards the beds.

"I get the top left one," he declared.

Ethan snorted. Jane let out a low laugh.

"Really Benji?" Ethan mused.

Benji nodded.

"Well, obviously Ethan? Why else would I have said that?" he laughed, walking towards the beds, "I mean, seriously Ethan, I worry for you sometimes mate."

The four of us stared after him.

"How old are you again?" Jane asked.

"Ah ha, sarcasm," Benji laughed, pulling the curtain shut.

Jane and I shared a bemused glance.

"Well then," Ethan began, moving towards the beds, "Goodnight."

"Goodnight Ethan," Jane responded in her warm voice. I looked up as she watched him leave, his dark eyes following him until his disappeared behind the curtain. I ran a hand through my drying hair, frowning as my fingers drifted over the waves that had formed from the moisture. I smirked. _In spite of everything that had occurred in the last 24 hours, I was still concerned with my hair. _I crossed the car, entering the small lavatory. _Millions of dollars of government technology, and still a shit hole of a bathroom. _I managed the best I could in the cramped space. Under the dim light, I rinsed the running eyeliner off my face, drying my face on the hem of my shirt. I exited the bathroom, shutting the thin door behind me. I walked towards the beds, yawning as I stretched my arms over my head. I reached the curtain, stopping short. Each of the four beds had been claimed. I frowned. Benji, in his pre-chosen bed, lay under the covers adjusting his pillow. Jane, though hadn't retired to bed for more than several minutes, appeared fast asleep, her back to the rest of the car. I glanced between Ethan and Brandt, neither of whom appeared cognizant of the shortage of bunks. Ethan sat on the edge of the bed, removing his boots. _Where the hell am I supposed to sleep? _I frowned. Brandt, glanced up at me lazily from his seat on the edge of his bed, his wide blue eyes tired and frustrated as always.

"I'm sleeping over there," Ethan replied, pointing to the pile of bags.

I glanced towards the bags then back at him, allowing social etiquette to speak before personal necessity.

"No," I replied, "It's fine, Ethan. You can sleep there. I'm already up."

I glanced towards the bags. They didn't look…half bad…

"I insist," Ethan offered, standing as he gestured to the bed.

I shook my head, sitting down on the bags.

"It's fine," I lied, reclining on the bags, "See?"

Ethan made a move to protest, but a short laugh from Brandt caught him short.

"Carr's made up her mind," Brandt muttered, pulling back his covers, "You'll have to go through hell and back to change it."

I shot a look in Brandt's direction. He flashed an insincere smirk before turning his back to me and settling into his bunk. I continued to adjust myself, waving off Ethan.

"It's fine," I said, rolling over onto my side and closing my eyes.

_It won't be any more comfortable than the last 24 hours. _

At last I heard Ethan sigh and recline in his bed. With a single click, the lights in the car went out, and everything was dark.

I woke up in the middle of the night. I sat up, rubbing my sore neck as I attempted to scan the dark car. All was silent, save the quiet sound of snoring and the rattling of the train. _Where were we even headed? _ I stood up, the contents of the bags clanking together softly. Stretching my arms over my head, I padded over to the lavatory. Propping the door open on a heavy metal case, I turned on the dim light. I padded back towards the plastic bags in which I had placed my clothes. Careful not to make too much noise, I dug through the bag until my hand found the damp tweed fabric of my pants. Without pulling them out of the bag, I fumbled with the ball of fabric, searching for my watch. _I'd taken it off earlier this afternoon during the security check at the airport. _I exhaled, flooded with relief as my fingers grasped the cool metal band. I pulled it out, holding it to the dim triangle of light cast by the lavatory. _Still in perfect condition. _I smiled to myself, clicked the band around my wrist. _You've yet to fail me Rolex. _I retied the plastic bag and returned it to its spot. As I padded back towards the lavatory, a soft groan sounded. I glanced towards the beds, watching for movement. As I reached the door, I heard the sound of feet against the metal floor. I watched as Brandt trudged into the light, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

"What are you doing Carr?" he mumbled, his tired state eliminating his usual sarcasm.

I held up my wrist.

"Looking for my watch," I replied, holding up my wrist, "I thought I lost it."

Brandt groaned again, rubbing his eyes.

"I mean before that," he replied.

_Before that? _"Hmm?"

"You've been tossing and turning on that thing all night," he said, gesturing to the piles of bags.

_Oh. Was it really that noisy? _I could tell from the cramp in my neck that the bed had been uncomfortable, but had I made that much noise tossing and turning? The bags certainly clanked when I had gotten up. _What on earth had Benji put in there? _…_well then again, it was Brandt complaining…everything I said or did I did seemed to perpetually irk him since the day I'd first met him. (often unintentional things mind you …though there were the… _occasional_ remarks or actions…..I digress)_

Brandt stood there for a moment, his glazed his staring in the general direction of the bags.

"Come here Carr," he said finally, turning and walking towards the sleeping quarters.

I moved to follow. He paused halfway, batting his hand in the air.

"Kill the light," he groaned.

I did as he asked, taking a moment to gain my bearings as my eyes adjusted to the light. I felt his hand slip around my wrist and into my hand as he led me in the direction from whence he came. In the dark, I felt my cheeks grow warm. _Get. Over. It…this isn't something you need thrown into the mix with the rest of this shit. _

"What are you doing Brandt?" I hissed, biting my tongue as my toe stubbed something hard.

He grunted in response, coming to a stop. I could see the faint outline of the bunks in the dark.

"Get in," he muttered, releasing my hand and pointing to the beds.

_He would trade? _I avoided snorting to myself. _That was awfully generous…coming from Brandt. _I sighed. _But then again, considering the circumstances, his cynical sniping would have even less to gain that usual. _I huffed, climbing into the bed. I began adjusting the pillow when I felt a second weight on the bed. _What the fucking h—?_

"Move over Carr," Brandt ordered.

I lay there, my mind attempting to wrap around the current train of events. _What he seriously planning on sharing? I mean, sure, it was out of necessity, but—_

"Move," he repeated, his tone dead, "I'm sick of waking up to you clanking around on the floor."

I edged over slowly, scooting as close to the wall and as far away from Brandt as I could. He exhaled as he collapsed into the bed beside me, his back to mine. I froze as I felt his hand touch my shoulder. _What was he— _My head hit the mattress with a muted thud as Brandt pulled the pillow from under my head. _Such a gentleman. _

"Night," I shot sarcastically. My comment was answered with silence.

Curling my arms against my chest, I stared hard at the wall in front of me. Behind me, Brandt let out a soft snore. _Did Jack Bauer ever have to deal with this shit? _I mused. _This was probably nothing compared to the hell I _ I exhaled slowly, allowing my eyes to close. _Why 24? Why couldn't I have been plucked from my own menial life and tossed into the world of Dancing with the Stars? _I smirked, enjoying the first peaceful moment in the last 24 hours.

_And so began the longest week of my life._

* * *

><p><em><strong>Well hullo there dahlings. So, what'd you think? REVIEW and let me know! At the moment, I'm waiting for feedback before continuing, entonces, feel free to express your thoughts-all are welcome. Nonetheless, I will add at least two more chapters before deciding whether or not to continue. So, until next time duckies, I'm am the writer. You are the Reader. Readers Read On! <strong>_

_**You're most faithful and dedicated author,**_

_**~Case H. **_


	2. Past and Present Reveries

A sudden jolt of the train woke me up. I stared hard at the steel wall in front of me, my heart racing for a moment until I remembered the cause of my unusual surroundings. I inhaled deeply, becoming increasingly aware of a weight against my waist. Blinking once in the dark, I reached down slowly, my hand pausing as it brushed Brandt's arm. I inhaled shakily, rotating as much as I could to look behind me. In his sleep Brandt had rolled to face me, his arm resting over waist, his body against mine. He exhaled slowly, his breath warm against my neck. I watched him for a moment, smiling as my tired mind noting how unusually peaceful he seemed.

Since I had met him, I had yet to see him express any other emotion beyond cynicism, seriousness, and frustration; he always appeared frustrated, and oftentimes, my presence in itself had often been to blame. _What did I ever do to him? _Anytime we were alone, I felt like the obnoxious younger sister who tagged along after her annoyed brother. _I'd proven myself capable hadn't I? _The secretary seemed to think so. I frowned, a dull lump forming in my throat. The secretary _had _thought so. _He had always seen to faith in me…_

* * *

><p>June 6, 2009<p>

I arrived at the office exactly on time, my resume and a notepad tucked under my suited arm. After security scanning, I had been led to a small office, where I was told to wait until further instruction. I drummed my fingers on the table, humming the James Bond theme of all things. I started when the door opened. A stout gray-haired man entered, followed by young handsome man in a tie and oxford, his sleeves rolled to his elbows.

"Ah, Miss Carr, it is a pleasure to meet you in person," the older man said, taking a seat across from me. The younger man remained standing, an indiscernible expression on face as he watched me. For a moment our eyes met, a strange feeling churning in my stomach before his eyes flickered away to stare at the older man.

"Allow me to introduce myself. I'm James Bird, the secretary of the IMF," he started with a smile, "This is my chief analyst William Brandt."

William Brandt sent a curt nod in my direction before returning his gaze to the man.

"You have quite the impressive resume," the secretary continued, "Born in London, raised here in DC. Daughter of the late Professor, Charles Carr. Orphaned at age 6 after mother Paula Carr was killed in a plane crash. Studied at the National Cathedral School before receiving a full scholarship to Georgetown University. Graduated from Walsh School of Foreign Service at age 20, magna cum laude. Multilingual. High school track star. 158 IQ. 21 years of age. No criminal record."

_How—?_

"You have an impressive record Miss Carr, if I do say so myself," the secretary concluded.

I stared back at him, not bothering to close my mouth. _How on earth had he learned that? _While I was sure records could reveal some of those facts, like old articles or college records, I could hardly recall that many facts about my life. The man, Brandt, continued to stare at the table in front of him, a look of pained distant afrustration on his face. I exhaled shakily as the secretary began again

"The IMF is a undercover branch of the United States government better known as the Impossible Missions Force. As the name suggests, our agents are the best of the best. We are called upon because we are the only ones capable of accomplishing the missions we are assigned.

"Our members are selected through a rigorous screening process, the names and information taken from various sources, including the government internship program to which you applied this past April. After a series of conversations, my colleagues and I have decided you offer you a paid internship at the IMF, where you will work in the Global Relations Department and as an assisting analyst to William here, should you choose to accept the internship."

The secretary regarded me silently. I inhaled slowly, attempting to arrange the cluttered rush of thoughts in my head. _How? What? Why_

"Mr. Secretary, I—"

* * *

><p>"Erin, it's time to wake up."<p>

My eyes opened slowly. Jane smiled slowly, giving my shoulder a squeeze as she stood up.

"We are leaving in an hour for our passage to Dubai," she continued, turning her back towards me as she walked towards the center of the train, "I put your clothes on the bed."

I sat up slowly, stretching my arms over my head. Benji and Ethan stood over the bags, rearranging and zipping the duffels. Brandt stood against the far wall, already dressed, a coffee mug in his hand. He seemed entirely oblivious to last night previous sleeping arrangements. I grit my teeth, ignoring the hint of disappointment in the pit of my stomach. I started towards the bed, yanking off my shirt and pulling the green v-neck Jane had given me. _What was wrong with me? _I acted like it had been planned. It was nothing. It had meant nothing to him. I pulled my jeans on, buttoning the metal clasp. _And it would mean nothing to me. _

"Good morning Erin," Ethan beamed, flashing a smile as he straightened up, "Sleep well?"

I nodded, rubbing the back of my neck as I sat down against the wall. Benji looked up from the bags, giving me a toothy grin.

"Morning sunshine!" he started, abandoning the bags to rummage through a drawer. He returned, tossing me a small red package

I caught it, turning it over in my hands. _Vanilla Energy Bar. …_

"Eat up," Benji sang, turning back to the bags.

I pulled back the wrapper, taking a bite. I coughed. _In whose world was this vanilla? _I swallowed, glaring at the wrapper before taking another bite. Ethan walked back to the center of the room.

"We leave in 30," he stated.

* * *

><p><strong>Cheers duckies! So whatcha thinkin' ? Let me know! R&amp;R. Sorry for the filler chapter! <strong>**Most of this story will be written using the film plot, however, I felt the need to add a little background to our character here. So until next time, I'm the writer. You're the readers. Readers Read On!**

**~Case H. **


	3. FUBAR Part 1

I stared out the window, watching the dessert roll past. After a small boat ride and flight, we arrived in Abu Dhabi, where we had piled into this too small land rover and begun the 2-odd hour drive to Dubai. I sat in the second row with Benji, while Jane sat in the front and Ethan drove. Brandt had been assigned the unfortunate seat in the trunk, without a window. He hugged his duffel to his chest, his grimace deepening with each jolt of the car. For the last hour, Ethan ran down the plan: Using masks—a ploy that caused Benji's enthusiasm to spike—Ethan would double for Wistrom, while Jane would double as Moureau. Meanwhile, Benji would access the server room in order to control the cameras and elevators. I would be helping Benji change the door numbers when we arrived.

"And, uh—what am I doing?" Brandt mused from the trunk.

Benji grinned, turning back to face him.

"You—you're the helper!" Benji beamed.

"…Helper," Brandt repeated, his voice dull.

"That's the spirit William," I said, placing my aviators on my head, "Keep that chipper enthusiasm up, and you might even get a gold star at the end of the day."

Benji chuckled to himself, while Ethan snorted from the front seat. Brandt turned to me, shooting me a wide, sarcastic smile.

"Hey Carr?"

"Hmm?"

"Shut up."

Despite his words, I could sense the playful tone in his voice. I turned around in my seat, batting my eyes innocently. Brandt raised an eyebrow at me before shaking his head and returning his gaze to the desert beyond the windows. I turned back around, a smirk playing on my lips as I stared to the silver city slowly rising from the sand.

* * *

><p>I pushed open the door, taking a seat around the coffee table as Ethan and Benji began rummaging through the duffels. Brandt stood by the window, his hands in his pockets. He exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. He looked anxious, his usual dull expression replaced by one of worry. <em>But who could blame him? <em>We were all nervous. If this didn't work, we were all screwed. _Even better: we were all dead._ And the civilization would be obliterated in nuclear holocaust. I smirked as I found myself picturing Tom Hanks in Saving Private Ryan. _FUBAR. Fucked Up Beyond All Recognition. _Brandt exhaled again, rolling his sleeves to his elbows. He always did that when he was upset or anxious—the nights of analysis reports with approaching deadlines. _The 3:30 a.m. phone call that the IMF had been implicated in the Kremlin bombing._ _But it wasn't always work_… _Even were meetings were finished and reports were filed, there was something about him—some regretful sadness behind those same blue eyes that had so often expressed a cynical disappointment with every mistake I made. I thought to ask…wanted to ask…but I always figured I would be the last person on earth to whom he would elaborate on his past life experiences._ Brandt turned away from the window, taking a seat across from me as he placed his phone on the desk.

"Thirty-six minutes 'til door knock," he stated, glancing between the three of us.

I glanced towards Ethan, who in turn nodded briefly before returning to unpacking a silver case. The brief moment of silence that ensued was interrupted as Benji cleared his throat.

"This is just a slight wrinkle, um, but not really anything to worry about," he started, "We're just going to have get into the server room from the outside."

_Had he gone mad? What on earth did he mean "from the outside?"_ _This wasn't exactly a two-story home, if he had bothered to notice. _My heart skipped a beat as I stared at Benji.

"What?" Ethan shot, abandoning the case to stand behind me.

Brandt stood up, his expression equally incredulous.

"Well—the firewall's on this server are military grade. I could hack it," he offered, "but it would take too long."

"Then hardwire it," Ethan persisted, his voice stern and impatient.

"And there's four layers of NexGen security between us and the server room," Benji continued, "There's no way we can get to it from the inside."

I swore under my breath, glancing between the three men before me. Ethan clenched his jaw, his lips forming a tight line as his hands gripped the back of my chair. Brandt shrugged, the hard lines in his forehead deepening.

"If we don't get to the server room, we don't control the elevators, we don't control the security cameras," he said, walking towards the center of the room, "This operation is over before it even begins."

He shook his head, his eyes meeting mine. I frowned. He shrugged in response, as if offering me the opportunity to suggest otherwise. I exhaled shakily. _Will was right. _I glanced behind me towards Ethan.

"I'm telling you we can get to it from the outside," Benji persisted.

Ethan raised his eyebrows.

"_We?" _

"I—I'm on the computer," Benji stated, gesturing towards the monitor.

Ethan looked down before glancing towards Brandt.

"I'm just the," he paused, gesturing towards Benji as proof, "the helper."

Ethan paused before sending a doubtful glance in my direction.

"I'm the, uh," I paused, my mind racking through excuses before I gestured to Brandt, "Intern, right?"

Brandt said nothing against my argument, but continued to stare at Ethan. Ethan let out a low whistle.

"What floor is it on?" he asked, abandoning his spot behind my chair to survey the window.

"A hundred and thirty," the Brit stuttered.

Ethan paused, before turning back to Benji.

"_A hundred and thirty?_" he repeated.

Benji grimaced in response.

"Vent ducts?" Ethan questioned.

"Pressure-sensitive," Benji responded.

"Not enough time," Brandt stated.

"Elevator Shaft?" Ethan persisted.

"Infra-red sensors," Benji stated.

"Not enough time," Brandt sang.

"How am I supposed to do this?"

There was a pause as Benji pulled something from his bag, tossing it against the window where it stuck dull thud. I raised by eyebrows glancing between Benji and Ethan. _Is that a glove…? _Images from my conversations with Benji while packing resurfaced. _Did he truly believe Ethan was going to scale the Burj Khalifah? _On the outside, with wind and whatever other variables the outdoors posed? A hundred thirty stories above the ground? I exhaled loudly, running a hand through my hair. I looked up, catching Brandt's eye. He gave me a blank stare, as he rested his chin on his clasped hands. _Ah, I recognized that stare. _I inhaled deeply, closing my eyes as I began forming same analysis as Brandt. _FUBAR…. FUBAR. FUBAR. FUBAR. FUBAR._

* * *

><p>I stood besides Brandt as Benji briefed Ethan.<p>

"Now it's a rolling motion that disengages the bond," Benji continued, "Just remember: Blue is glue."

Ethan moved his glove as Benji suggested, the glowing pad on the back turning red.

"And red?" Ethan asked.

"Dead," Benji responded nonchalantly, gathering instruments from a nearby counter.

Ethan raised an eyebrow, sending me a reassuring smirk. In spite of my nerves, I smiled back, watching as his eyes lingered on my own. My attention was recalled to the present as Benji lumbered between us. I glanced up, my eyes meeting Brandt's. He gave me an odd look, and for briefest moment, I imagined his eyes flickering towards Ethan before returning to me. I raised an eyebrow in Will's direction but his gaze was already preoccupied with the walkie-talkie in his hands.

"Comm check," Brandt stated.

Ethan held his hand to his ear, nodding slowly.

"Check," he responded.

"Now this is your is your transmitter and your precisor," Benji started, displaying each before him, "Both going back here."

Benji fell silent, stepping away from Ethan. I exhaled nervously, my eyes fixated on the open gap in the class. My nerves wavered slightly as I felt a hand on my shoulder.

"Twenty-six minutes 'til door knock," Brandt stated, glancing towards Ethan.

With a reassuring squeeze, Ethan's hand left my shoulder as he paced towards the window. Benji and I followed, moving to stand besides Brandt. I held my breath as Ethan stood in the window, his grip on the remaining pane as the sole support holding him in place. Then, ever so slowly, he swung out of the window, and after a moment's pause, began his ascent to the server room.

* * *

><p>I stood in the center of the room, my heart racing. The wind from the open window wisped around me as I held my ground, a childish paranoia convincing me that if I moved, I might be sucked out the window after Ethan.<p>

"Twenty-two minutes til door knock," Brandt muttered into the walkie-talkie.

"The countdown's not helping," came a scratchy response.

I inhaled shakily. _Ethan was outside, scaling a glass building, with sticky gloves. No harness. No belay system. Nothing. _I glanced nervously towards the window. _He was going to die. He was going die, and we would have gained nothing and the mission would be kaput. _He was going to die. And then we were all going to die. I nearly jumped when I felt a new presence besides me.

"Calm down, Carr," Brant urged, "You're starting to make my nerves worse."

I nodded quickly and returned to my pessimistic mantra. _Ethan's going to die. Oh my god. Ethan's going to die. I mean, how old was he anyway? What, late 30s, early 40s? Certainly not long enough to enjoy a full life. I mean, what was he leaving behind? Well, I heard from Benji him and his wife broke up, and I doubted he had kids, but I mean like he had to have a family? And girlfriends? Loads, probably, I mean jeez, just look at the guy. All he'd have to do was walk into a bar and theyd be all over him. I mean, well, if he did that, cause you know that whole IMF thing. But hey Bond had chicks…and he was a spy and I mean, they're both good loking and—what the hell am I talking about? He's about to die. We're about to die. Most of the modern world's about to die. We're all gonna die. We're all gonna die. We're all gonna—_

"Erin, babe, look at me," Brandt urged, his hands resting on my shoulders, "Look. At. Me."

My mind left its rant and returned to the present. I stared at Brandt, becoming immediately aware of how close we stood. While his dark blue eyes stared at me as if I had lost it, I could discern a hint of concern as well.

"Did you just call me babe?" I asked.

Brandt blinked in response.

"You're going to go into shock if you don't calm yourself down. I need you to calm down for me Erin," he stated, removing his hands from my shoulders, "Alright?"

I stood there silently. Was I really _that_ hysterical?

_alright_ _…..yes. _

" Alright?" he repeated, his stance growing frustrated.

I nodded slowly.

"Good," he replied, his concern replaced by its preceding somber expression "We need everyone alive and functioning if we want any shot of completing this operation."

_Ha. _This _operation_. He was sounding more and more like Ethan by the minute. I turned sharply as the door opened behind me. Jane stood in doorframe, the dry cleaning in her hand. She paused, glancing between the three of us and the open window.

"Where's Ethan?" She asked, her voice unusual high and worried.

The three of us simply glanced towards the window in silence.

* * *

><p><strong>Qu'en pensez-vous? For you non frenchies, whatcha thinkin? I was thinking about posting a whole long chapter tomorrow but, hey, I've cranked out this much for you haven't I? So, bullet point time:<strong>

**1) many thanks to Spielberg and Cpt. Miller for our chapter's title and Erin's new favorite expression**

**2) If you're lost on its meaning, dont worry, its German**

**3)If you didnt get number 2, watch Saving Private Ryan or read the memorable quotes on **

**4)As always, review, review, review! I love feedback, cause I actually read and oftentimes use it :)**

**5) I have NO IDEA what the laser-gun-thing that cuts windows is called...if you do...well...frankly my dear, I don't give a damn.**

**6) I just typed 'eye' for 'I' and 'here' for 'hear', entonces chicitos, there are probably numerous such errors (like this horrific grammar) and my tired mind deeply apologizes for said discrepancies **

**7) REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW**

**8) I love you...all. **

**9) To bed, before more rambling ensues**

**10) So until next time, I'm the writer. You, my dear, are the reader. Readers Read On!**

**~Case**


	4. FUBAR Part 2

"Uh oh," Benji started, his voice becoming frantic, "Moreau is in the elevator."

I stood in the doorway panting, the heavy engraver dangling in my hand. I had just changed the numbers of two floors, and I was exhausted, to say the least.

"What?" I wheezed, lugging the machine onto the counter.

"She's in the elevator now, at this moment," Benji mumbled, pointing to his monitor now, "We need to move. Now."

Jane exhaled loudly, taking a step towards the window, crossing her arms. I could see the anger building in her eyes. I hadn't heard the full story, but I had seen and learned enough to know Moreau had killed someone dear to her.

"Ethan, we need you back here now," Brandt called in to the walkie-talkie, "Moreau's on her way."

A faint, static gurgle was the sole response.

"Ethan, do you read me?" Brandt repeated.

Brandt stood up frustrated, tossing the walkie-talkie into his chair as his placed his hands on his hips. At that moment, a loud crash sounded above us. Brant and Jane ran to the window. After a moment, I followed, my mouth fall open at the sight: Ethan, his gloves gone, was dangling on the side of the building by a rope. _One that appeared too short to reach the room. _I frowned, crossing my arms nervously.

"You're not gonna make it!" Brandt shouted.

Though I could barely see Ethan from where I now stood, I heard the response loud and clear.

"No shit!"

There was a pause, and then…._it all happened so quickly. _

_Ethan swinging towards the building, letting go of the rope, falling towards the window. _I watched him fall, my mind running through the scenario, calculating the angle of his fall. He was close, but he needed to be lower _He wouldn't make it… _He was too high: he would collide with the upper portion of the window frame. With his weight, the trajectory and speed at which he was falling, he would hit the pane. _For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. _The hit would stop his forward motion, knocking him backwards with an equal violent force that would send him spiraling back into the side of building. _And from there he was fall to the ground…_ I watched in horror as the scenario played itself out, and Ethan collided with the window. And then Will jumped. In spite of myself, I screamed, nearly tripping over Jane as she laid herself out to catch him, gripping the loose fabric of the couch. I reached forward, digging my heels into the floor as I attempted to hold the sliding couch in place. After what seemed like eternity, Ethan reappeared, pulling himself into the window over Brandt. With a final heave, both Brandt and Ethan were safely inside the room. My arms shaking, I plopped down beside them, breathing heavily. A moment later, the door burst open. Benji, who had forgotten to change the floor labels at the elevator, exhaled loudly.

"Phew! That was difficult," he heaved, dropping the engraver on the floor, "But, I did it!"

He paced over to us, as if noticing the four people collapsed on the floor for the first time.

"What'd I miss?" He beamed.

The four of us glanced at each other. Brandt simply shook his head, while Ethan sent me a knowing smile. Jane rolled her eyes. I simply laughed. _Oh Benji…Benji. Benji. Benji._

* * *

><p>"Great," Benji exclaimed, "Everything's set: the mask are almost done, Moreau's in place, we gained access to the server room."<p>

He exhaled giddily, moving to stand behind me.

"Now all we have to do is look out for—Wistrom!" His enthusiastic demeanor was immediately replaced by panic.

"Ethan, its Wistrom!" He called. Benji leaned forward over my shoulder, eyeing the computer screen.

I glanced towards the screen, my eyes recognizing Wistrom from his picture on the train. A simply dressed man lumbered after him, his movements oddly jerky—quick, uneven steps, glances over his shoulder, brief glances towards Wistrom, though he failed to maintain any long term visual contact with the man. _He was clearly nervous, and from his actions, Wistrom was clearly a source. _I doubted he was here of his own accord. _Then why was he here? Why this man? _Ethan reappeared in the doorway, his face falling.

"He's not alone," I added frowning.

"Not alone?" Ethan repeated, pacing towards me. He leaned forward, taking the computer in his hands. "Who—Brandt!"

Brandt reappeared in the room.

"Who is this man?" Ethan asked, holding the monitor to Brandt. Brandt watched the monitor for a moment before frowning.

"Lisenker," he stated, "the man in charge of reprogramming Russia's nuclear security after the Cold War."

Ethan swore under his breath. I paused, taking a moment to realize the problems this posed. Hendricks needed someone familiar with launch codes. Someone who knew them, who created them…. _Someone who could tell fake codes from real ones in an instant…_

"He's here to authenticate the codes," Jane stated.

There was a pause as we sat in silence.

"Reprogram the case," Ethan said finally.

_Reprogram? As in make exact copies of real nuclear launch codes to give to a terrorist?_

"Reprogram?" Jane repeated.

"Ethan, are you considering giving Hendricks the real codes?" Brandt asked, taking a step towards the codes.

"Hendrick's won't settle for anything else. We have no choice," Ethan responded.

"Ethan—" I started, standing up, but Brandt cut me off.

"I won't let you Ethan," Brandt shouted, grabbing the case.

"Give me the case Brandt," Ethan ordered.

Brandt shook his head, taking a step backwards to hold the case out of the window. My breath caught in my throat. _Brandt would be willing to lose the case than hand it over. _

"Give me the case!" Ethan barked.

"No!" Brand shouted, "I won't let you!"

Ethan took a step towards Brandt and for a moment I feared Brandt might take another dangerous step back. _I couldn't help but to agree with Will, but I couldn't bring myself to watch him die over this. _There had to be another way. _There had to be…_ I frowned. _The massive sandstorm in the distance wasn't helping my nerves. _

"We have to Brandt!" Ethan shouted "We have to! Preventing Hendricks from getting the codes won't stop him. Failure for a terrorist is just a rehearsal for success! "

Brandt shook his head again, shuffling backwards towards the window. I stared wide-eyed at the scene before me. _Ethan was right. We had to. It was the only way to stop Hendricks._

"If we don't stop him now, Hendricks will simply try again, without the IMF to stop him!" Ethan shouted "Go ahead! Tell me there's another way and I'll back off!"

_I couldn't take it anymore. _

"Will, please! Listen to Ethan! As much as I know we hate to admit, we have no other choice!"

Will paused, glancing towards me.

"Will, please," I begged.

Will stood in the window, breathing heavily, the hard determination in his eyes softened slowly as he watched me. I could see everything he felt: the fear, the determination, the defeat. _But there was something else…_ something else I couldn't quite pinpoint. As realization finally sank in, he took a step away from the window, swearing as he handed the case to Ethan.

"I have no choice," he stated, his voice defeated.

Ethan took the case, turning to the rest of the room.

"We have to hurry. Benji stall him!" Ethan ordered, "Jane—"

Ethan opened his mouth but was cut short by a grinding mechanical screech. _That didn't sound good. _

"The masks!" Benji yelped.

Jane ran over to the case on the counter, glancing up as us before shaking her head.

"We go without," Ethan stated.

_Without? If they had no masks, they might as well waltz into the room and declare their grand scheme to the world._

"Without masks?" Benji cried.

"We'll have to go as ourselves," Ethan explained.

_Was Ethan mad?_

"And what if Wistrom and Moreau have met?" I asked, standing up, "What then?"

"And what if they haven't?" Ethan returned.

I opened my mouth, but Ethan was already moving towards the door. I crossed my arms, taking a seat on the back edge of the sofa.

"Jane, you have to go. Now!" Ethan stated, "Benji. Stall him!"

Benji frantically pressed buttons on the keyboard.

"I'm trying, but he's on the 80th floor," he responded.

Ethan exhaled, running his hands through his hair. He turned to the four of us.

"It's now or never."

* * *

><p><strong>Decided to publish this now, as I currently feel I am writing a mega chapter. More to come, look for it later today! :) 'Tis short, but as always, comments, reviews, and the like are always welcome. 'Til we meet again: I'm the writer. You're the reader. Readers Read On!<strong>

~Case H.


	5. La Chute

I sat in front of the computer; monitoring the halls as I listened in on the conversation from the earpiece Benji had given me. The exchanges were succeeding unimaginably well, given the last-minute alterations our plan had suffered. I was alone in the room now. Benji and Brandt were currently scanning the codes to produce the replicas Jane would give to Wistrom and Lisenker. Jane, in turn, was coaxing her diamond payment out of Wistrom, which would then pass to the real Moreau via Benji. From the conversation I was currently overhearing, Benji was in the room with Jane and Wistrom, posing as a French waiter serving tea. When the time was right, he would exchange the real diamond for an identical, worthless sack and offer them to Moreau a floor below. And here I was—in charge of nothing save the elevators and cameras—with no means of changing the current situation beyond alerting the others. I glanced towards at the gun Benji had given me. _I might as well try to fight barehanded for all the good my aim would do me. _

"Zero, zero, zero," came Jane's accented voice into the earpiece.

If she was opening the case, then Brandt had succeeded in copying the codes. I ran a hand through my hair, glancing towards the open window towards the approaching sandstorm. _That looked pleasant… _It was an amazing site to be certain, but a wall of blowing sand was not the most enticing idea while seated in a room with an open window.

"Pleasure doing business with you," came Jane's voice again in an unusually rushed tone.

"Wistrom's on the move," she said, "He's got the codes."

"Roger that," came Benji's voice, "Returning to the room."

I glanced towards the camera monitors. Wistrom and Lisenker moved towards the elevators. I attempted to zoom in when a new voice sounded.

"_Tuez-le!" _

_Kill him_, she had ordered_. _I stood up as the sudden sounds of a fight broke out over the frequency.

"Moreau's on the move!" called Ethan, his voice short and breathy.

"Got it," came Jane's response.

I grabbed the gun, clicking the cartridge into place as Benji had instructed. _Two hand grip, point and shoot. _Over the noises of the scuffle, I could hear Ethan warning Jane to keep Moreau alive. As I headed towards the door, the distinct echoes of gunshots filled the space. I turned back to the computer, in time to watch Lisenker crumple to the ground as Wistrom moved to elevators.

"Lisenker's been shot!" I called into the mic.

There was a momentary lack of voices before I heard Ethan tell Brandt to find Lisenker. _Brandt… _How many men had been in the room? By the sound of the scuffle, it had clearly been more than one. _But Ethan couldn't take them all on his own…and if the Moreau's men had any sense at all, they would have attempted to take down each man individually. _I swore under my breath, pressing the keys as rapidly as I could to stall the elevator. _There had to be something else we could do! _The door crashed open as Benji ran in, tossing his uniform aside.

"Move, move, move!" Benji shouted, pushing me aside as he gripped the computer, "Go! Find Lisenker!"

I stood there, nodding as I went to find Lisenker. I arrived in the empty hallway, raising my gun ahead of me, imitating the stance I had seen others use. Around the corner, I spied Lisenker. With a final scan of the hallway, I lowered my gun, rushing to his side. He was still alive, but barely. The front of his shirt was soaked with blood, the darkest region near the upper left portion of his chest.

"Lisenker!" I said, reaching for his wrist to check his radial pulse. _I felt a faint thumping in response. _I raised two fingers to his neck. His carotid pulse was stronger, but not by much. He would die soon if he wasn't taken to a hospital soon—if not from the trauma alone, then from the blood loss. I stood up, removing my suit coat to compress his chest wound. He groaned in response, glancing up at me.

"_Anna, they have Anna!_" he mumbled, his voice weak.

I applied more pressure, but to no avail. The warm blood soaked the coat. I checked his carotid again. _It was fainter. _

"Lisenker, I need you to look at me," I urged, "Stay with me."

The sound of feet skidding on the carpet caught my attention. I looked up, a brief wave of relief coming over as I spied Will.

"Will! He's here," I called.

Will turned, lowering the gun in his hands. He raced over, crouching low.

"Lisenker! Stay with me," Will urged, checking his vitals.

"_Anna_," Lisenker moaned, "_They have Anna and Alex. They have my family. My family…"_

"They're fine," I lied, "You can see them, but I need you to stay with my Lisenker."

Will glanced at me out of the corner of his eye before returning to Lisenker.

"_My family_,_" _Lisenker moaned, his eyes closing.

"No, no, no, Lisenker stay with me!" Will said, tapping his face.

A gunshot sounded from the floor below.

"What was _that_?" I asked.

I waited for a response but heard nothing.

"Moreau," Brandt said, swearing under his breath. He stood up quickly, grabbing the gun. "If he can't be revived in two minutes, he's gone."

I glanced up at Will. He simply shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Erin," he stated simply, disappearing around the corner as he took off down the hall.

I glanced back at Lisenker. I pressed the stained coat harder into his chest.

"_Please_, Lisenker, _stay_," I pleaded, my vision blurring slightly. I checked his pulse again, tapping his face as Brandt had done, "Lisenker!"

There was no pulse. No response. _He was gone. _I sat there, allowing the sodden jacket to fall into his lap, a hot tear falling across my cheek. I glanced down at my bloody hands, allowing another tear to fall as a lump formed in my throat. _If Hendricks had no need to keep Lisenker alive, what incentive did he have to preserve the man's family? _I closed my eyes, wiping my face on the edge of my sleeve. I stood up slowly, unable to shake the sensation of guilt building in the pit of my stomach—_if I had been here sooner, if I hadn't turned away, I could have warned Jane before Wistrom shot him. _I swallowed, taking a final glance at Lisenker before running towards the staircase. Halfway between the room and the floor above, a scream sounded on the frequency.

I doubled my speed, flinging the hall door open as I raced down the hall. I pushed the room door open, freezing in the doorframe. I glanced between the room's three occupants—Benji dazed on the floor, Brandt, both shocked and frustrated in the center of the room, and an emotionless Jane at the window. Moreau was absent. It took all of two seconds to put two and two together. _Benji had been knocked unconscious by Moreau at one point, and in the fight I am sure that ensued, Moreau had been thrown out the window by Jane. Brandt appeared as shocked as I was, though I watched the shock give continue to give away to frustration. _

And there we stood: Benji was half-conscious. Jane had just thrown an assassin to her death. Will, clearly unscathed from a fight with an assassin's hired guard. Ethan absent, and god knew where. And me, taking it from where I stood, my hands and shirt marked with the blood of a dead man I failed to save.

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><p><strong>Not the happiest chapter, but than again, not the most successful moment for team Ethan. The title is called 'La Chute,' meaning the fall (in both a literal and metaphorical sense) do with it what you shall-the term FUBAR is such a perfectly wonderful term, I did not wish to overuse it. At the moment, I am planning to either keep the story relatively canon, or add slightly off-canon chapter before returning to said afore and overmentioned canon. Nonetheless mes enfants, qu'en pensez-vous du chapitre? Whatcha thinkin? Let me know! <strong>

**Until we meet again, I'm the writer. You're the reader. Readers Read On!**

**~Case H. **


	6. Secrets

I sat on a small wooden bench, staring hard at the wall at Brandt and Jane continued to argue. I wanted so desperately to cover my ears, to make it stop, but I knew I couldn't do so without joining. I walked towards the table, keeping my eyes low as I poured myself another shot of whiskey. Benji looked up, giving me a small smirk, before looking away to stare solemnly at the wall. We had left the Burj Khalifah immediately after I arrived, traveling to a safe house we had chosen before reaching Dubai. Ethan had turned up an hour later, his clothing torn and dirty, a damaged mask in his hand. His news, however, was worse: Hendricks, disguised at Wistrom, had the codes in hand, and he had escaped.

"And what happened, with Moreau?" Brandt shouted, gesturing at Jane.

"She couldn't help us with anything," Jane retorted, taking a step towards Brandt.

"Yeah? So let's throw her off the building!" Brandt shouted, in response.

"I didn't _throw _her!" Jane shouted back.

Brandt rolled his eyes, letting out a short sarcastic laugh.

"Let's throw her out the building. THAT WAS NOT THE MISSION, JANE!" Brandt shouted, slapping his hand on the table with a loud crack, "THE MISSION WAS TO TRACK THE FILE BACK TO HENDRICKS! WHO GOT AWAY! WITH NUCLEAR LAUNCH CODES!"

"Well _maybe _you didn't notice the gun in her hand!" Jane retorted.

"And _maybe _you didn't notice the open window?" Brandt shot back sarcastically.

"She's gone, yes! But this mission isn't blown!" Jane responded, the chair beside her screeching against the floor as she took another step towards Brandt.

"Yes, you're right!" Brandt drawled, "Because we have just given ACTIVE nuclear codes to a TERRORIST!"

"Well I'm not the only one to blame!" Jane started, turning towards Benji and I.

"How did the Russian's find us, Benji?" Jane shouted, leaning towards him, "You are supposed to cover our tracks! It was a simple, task Benji!"

"I'm trying!" Benji responded.

"Yes, well that was _great _work back there Benji!" Jane retorted.

"Hey!" I shouted, standing up, "We wouldn't have gotten anywhere back there without Benji!"

"And why isn't Lisenker here, Erin?" Jane retorted, turning towards me. "You were supposed to be monitoring the screens!"

"There was nothing I could do!" I shouted back, the lump reforming in my throat.

"You're right and he's dead!" Jane hissed.

I stood there dumbfounded, staring hard at the ground. _I saw him: slipping away again, worried for the family he would never see again, the life fading from his eyes. _I inhaled shakily.

"Maybe there was a reason you were still an intern," Jane continued, taking a step towards me, "Because these mistakes CANNOT BE MADE BY AN AGENT!"

"You know, Jane, you talk a hell of a lot for someone who just _killed _ONE OF OUR RESOURCES!" Will shouted, taking a step between Jane and I. I moved back numbly, staring hard at the floor as my vision blurred. _There was nothing I could do… _

Will took another step forward, causing Jane to retreat another step.

"YOU, Jane, YOU are an agent! YOU can't afford to make these mistakes!" Will shouted.

"And you're just an ANALYST!"

I turned as Ethan stormed into the room, his eyes fixed on Brandt.

"Right? RIGHT?" Ethan shouted.

I stood behind Brandt, glancing towards Ethan.

"And you, you're just an intern right?" He asked, taking a step towards me.

"All my years in the IMF, I have never heard of such a young intern," he started, "How many languages do you speak, Carr? Because I've seen you read and communicate in four alone since we first met."

"Why is any of this important, Ethan?" Brandt said.

"You tell me, Brandt," Ethan shot back, Who are you really?"

Will frowned.

"What are you asking?" Brandt asked, his voice losing its edge.

"What am I asking?" Ethan mused, "Let me put it a different way."

_It happened in the space of 5 seconds. Ethan pulled a gun from him pulled, holding it to Will's head. Without a moments, hesitation, Brandt grabbed the gun, twisiting out of Ethan's hand to point it towards Ethan. Jane lifted her own gun pointing it at Brandt. _

"Now how does an agent like that, end up an analyst?"

_Without a glance towards Jane, Brandt broke down the gun, flipping it around as he handed it to Ethan. _

"We all have our secrets," Brandt started, his voice low, "Don't we Ethan?"

"You tell me yours I'll tell you mine," Ethan responded, without skipping s beat.

The room was silent as Brandt turned towards the staircase, gripping the wooden beam above his head. A faint buzz sounded. Ethan reached down, checking his phone.

"Change of plans," he stated suddenly, pacing towards the door, "I'll return later or send word."

Without so much as a final glance, Ethan disappeared through the door. I crossed my arms, staring hard at the floor. _When did life become so complicated? _

"Care to explain _Agent _Brandt?" Jane drawled, her voice hard.

Brandt exhaled slowly, turning towards us. He looked around the room, pausing when his eyes met mine. _For the year that I had known him, I had seen William Brandt express nearly every emotion: fear, worry, happiness, frustration, disappointment—but never helplessness he displayed now. His wide blue eyes stared into my own, the frustration and disappointment with which he had often regarded entirely absent, as if it had never existed to begin with. _

And then he began to speak.

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><p><strong>WOOHOO - 3 chapters in 24 hours! I think that's a record lol. So yes, the story shall continue, and in the mean time, review, review, REVIEW! And now to respond to reviewers woop woop!: <strong>

**Sabuku no Koori: **Merci pour avoir m'ecrit en francais! ton francais n'est pas mal! Ne t'inquiete pas-ta grammaire et ton vocabulaire amelioront. :)

**WhatsGoingOn: **I love you too :) ...just don't tell Brandt

**IsThisACliche: **Do expect more romance -cause its comin' ;)

**shippolove844:** Thank you for the reviews! You're reviews and opinions are always greatly appreciated!

And to **IAmTheStars, SerenaBlairxx, , Scocco, EmmyMK, Novella Vialli:** I thank you so much for your reviews :)

**Until next time, I'm the writer. You're the readers. Readers Read On!**

**~Case H. **


	7. Revelation

**How the hell did I miss a chapter? meh, who knows. Nonetheless, here's chapter 7 (baby chapter, meant to be part of another) Look for a new update soon.**

**~Case H.**

"Several years ago," Brandt began, "I was in charge of a protection detail in Croatia. A routine procedure: I was in charge of shadowing a married couple the agency considered valuable assets. A week or so into the mission, my men and I received word that a Serbian hit squad was targeting our couple."

He paused for a moment, glancing up from the floor. He exhaled slowly, crossing his arms.

"At the time," he continued, "I couldn't help but feeling like I should warn the couple somehow. I could have warned them. I should have warned them. But…orders were orders, and…"

He trailed off, glancing up at us.

"And, I didn't.

He paused again.

"Well one day, the husband decides to go out for a run. I leave to men with the wife, and I follow the husband. When I return...my men are unconscious and the wife is gone. The found the wife's body in a river two days later…or at least what was left of it."

I watched Will slowly, staring at the floor. _No wonder he had seemed perpetually frustrated. _I wanted so desperately to speak, to say something comforting, but I couldn't bring myself to interrupt the silence that had fallen across the room.

"What happened to the husband?" Jane asked, any remaining traces of anger in her voice long gone.

"I'm not sure," Brandt responded, "Never saw him again…Until three days ago in Moscow, when the secretary reintroduced me to Ethan Hunt."

His final words seemed to echo in the room. _Ethan. The man was Ethan. _Brandt paced forward slowly, taking a seat at the table. He poured himself another glass.

"And all this time, I'm wondering: should I tell him? How do I tell him?"

He glanced up, his eyes meeting my own.

"That I'm responsible," he concluded.

He sat there for a moment. He downed his drink in a single gulp, sitting the glass on the table with a hard clink. There was the scraping of wood against the stone floor as he pushed himself away from the table. Without a single glance, he crossed the room, his feet echoing of the wooden stairs as he climbed to the second floor.


	8. Past Lives

It had been at least an hour since Brandt had left. We sat in silence, the three of us, staring in different directions and saying nothing. It had been three months since I began working with Jane. I knew her pain, or at least what she'd been through, and I knew her temper well enough, nonetheless, I found her previous comments rather uncalled for—particularly that last bit towards Erin. It wasn't her fault. She'd been proper miserable since we'd gotten back. I'm sure she'd be blaming herself, no need for Jane to go and rub in her face. If anything, it had been my fault—she shouldn't have been the only one on monitoring duty. But what good did blaming anyone serve? Hendricks was gone. Lisenker and Moreau we're dead. Our plan thus far had failed, simple as that. No sense blaming one another for what we couldn't change. I glanced up at Erin. She was staring at the wall, absently twirling her half-filled glass. How many had the girl had? I mean, she was what? A little more that a meter and a half? I'm surprised she could keep that many down. Tiny little thing she was, looked just like Jane too. What had Ethan been going on about? I mean, the girl wasn't a complete numpty—not in the least…but then again, helper Brandt hadn't presented himself as an agent either. Where was he now? From the clock above the door, he'd gone upstairs 'round ten 'til. It was about half past now. Did I dare? I glanced between the two silent women. If they'd wanted to have a go, they'd probably would've taken each other out by now. I doubted I could've stopped them. Barely stopped Moreau… I frowned, gingerly touching the knot on the side of my head. Man that woman could hit. I stood up slowly, pushing myself away from the table. Jane glanced briefly in my direction while Erin ignored me entirely. I crossed the room, mounting the staircase. The house was a small thing, but there was enough for two bedroom's on the upper floor. I pushed open the door to the first.

Brandt sat on an ottoman in the corner of the room, his elbows resting on his knees. He glanced up as I entered.

"Everything alright mate?" I asked.

He regarded me silently as I took a cautious seat across from him.

"Given our present circumstances," he muttered dully, "There's still whiskey."

He raised his glass once before downing the rest of the amber liquid. I sat there silently as Brandt stared blankly at the floor.

"I'm sorry mate," I said finally, "About this. About all this."

"Doesn't change anything does it?" He responded, his tone dry.

"Yea, I guess," I mumbled.

I sat there for a moment, staring at the ceiling. I swear the house looked like something out of an Indiana Jones movie—wood and tile floor, heavy wooden beams, stucco walls and all. I stared towards the rooftop patio on the far side of the room. How lovely it would've been to be able to have a seat on balcony and take in the city. But we couldn't—we were too high profile now. I glanced back to Brandt, choosing my words carefully.

"Erin," I mumbled slowly.

He glanced up at her name, his eyes watching me steadily.

"Do you know what Ethan meant about Erin?" I asked, "I mean, I wanted to ask her, but…well, after your story, I guess…I mean…"

He continued to give me a blank stare before letting out a low, dry laugh.

"I don't suppose that would've got you far," he muttered, returning his gaze to the opposite wall.

"Well, I mean," I started, "She's always seemed sociable enough…I didn't really see her as a secrets person, but then again…you know…the IMF…not really a big show and tell organization. Still don't see why she wouldn't have told us that…she could have been helpful back there."

Brandt let out another dry laugh.

"How could she have told you," he mused sarcastically, "If she doesn't even know?"

I stared at him. I never was a fan of riddles, not even in grammar school. Waste of time if you ask me.

"What on earth is that supposed to mean?" I asked.

Brandt exhaled loudly, crossing his legs as he looked towards me.

"Last year, Erin was recruited by the IMF to be an intern—a rare case, as Ethan pointed out. The IMF first heard wind of her when she was sixteen, and from that moment the secretary wanted her—I mean, every agency wanted her—she was young, brilliant, educated."

"I mean, isn't that the qualifications for all IMF agents? I mean, can't think of too many that were thoroughly incompetent," I mused, "I mean, she has to be aware of how good she is."

"She became aware of the IMF's interest last year, when she received an internship. To this day, she still thinks she was chosen to be a top analyst. But her her IQ is 58 points above average, "Brandt continued, "She's fluent in four languages. She can act. She's athletic. And to top it off, she's young and she can learn—consummate agent material. "

"Then why recruit her to be an intern for an analyst position?" I asked. Seemed like a waste if you ask me.

"She was never recruited for an analyst position," Brandt replied, his voice low, "No, what she doesn't know is that the IMF recruited her to be the next Ethan Hunt."

I stared back at him.

"Erin?" I repeated, dumbfounded.

He nodded slowly. I watched him for a moment.

"Is this why you're always after her?" I asked.

He raised an eyebrow.

"I mean," I started, "I hear you critiquing her, and if I had to guess, now wasn't the start of it. Knowing she was going to end up an agent and all."

"If this is her future," he continued, "Then she needs to know any and everything that she can. She can't hesitate to recall information. She can't waste time fumbling to load a gun. She can't make mistakes. This life won't afford her that luxury."

He hesitated, his eyes meeting mine.

"I won't let her die, knowing there was something I could've taught her."

I paused, taking a moment to comprehend what Brandt had said.

"You care about all your interns that way?" I asked.

He sent me a look, his brow furrowing.

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?" he responded.

I shrugged, standing up as I moved towards the door.

"Nothing," I replied, "It's just…you seem to care a lot about Erin…I mean, I mean we all do…it's just… I guess that's all."

He gaze turned once again to the wall, a renewed bitterness in his eyes. I left the room, retuning downstairs. Erin and Jane were still seated as they were before, though the tension had seemed to decline sharply. I took a seat at the table across from her. She looked up, her wide brown eyes concerned.

"How is he?" She asked softly.

It seemed so hard to wrap my mind around the fact that this girl, was oblivious to how little say the IMF had given her in her life. She was the next Ethan Hunt—the next IMF legend. Well, I suppose that was before the IMF had been disavowed. At least, she'd have a choice now.

"Better," I muttered in response.

I reached forward, pouring two glasses. I handed one to her.

"Could you take this up to him for me?" I asked.

She nodded, taking the glass as she slowly disappeared up the staircase.

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><p><strong>AUTHORS NOTE: Awkward updating, forgot an earlier chapter...not entirely sure how. But no, sorry pals this is not a new chapter-But there is one in store this weekend!<strong>

**~Case H. **

* * *

><p><strong>Quid facis discipuli? What are your philosophical conclusions and opinions of this most recent literary portion ? haha Let me know! Expect a slightly off canon chapter in the very near future (woo baby side-missions!) and so until then, I thank you for your reviews :)<strong>

Until we meet again, I'm the writer. You're the reader. Readers Read On!

~Case "why'd my parents name me after the capitol of Tennessee" Memphis H.


	9. Sympathy

I sat at the table, staring blankly at the wall across from me. Jane nor Benji had said a word since Ethan had left. _But then again, I didn't particularly care to talk to Jane at the moment… _I exhaled softly, tucking my hair behind my ear. _This damned humidity was making it wavy. _I stared at the stucco wall before, tracing the lines of the Arabic calligraphy featured on the centermost wall hanging. I recognized it from a religion class at Georgetown—the Declaration of Faith. The calligraphy was beautiful, gently arching and curving across the page. _I wish had learned Arabic. _I knew a few phrases I had picked up from both friends and movies, and could write my name fairly well. The rolled 'h' would be hard enough to learn, but thankfully in my case, languages had always come relatively easy to me. When I was younger, I had been given some of his old books, and while at the time, I hadn't spoken anything but English, I had promised myself that one day, I would be able to read the texts. I knew French and Spanish now fluently, and my German wasn't far behind. I still struggled with the Russian, however. It took me half a year to read Anna Karenina—and that had been with a Russian dictionary glued to my hand. Certainly impressive, but nothing for Ethan be alarmed about. I exhaled, staring at my blank palm. How quickly life changes. _Lisenker. _I knew it wasn't my fault—that Jane had said what she had out of anger; but even without her words, I couldn't shake the sinking feeling that there was something I could have done. I glanced towards the upper floor. _Why was I even complaining? _I knew the guilt I felt was nothing compared to the guilt Brandt had felt every single day since his mission had failed in Croatia. It seemed to explain so much—that ever-present look of frustration and sadness in his pale eyes, the unusual air of nervousness when the secretary had initially told us of the rendez-vous with Ethan Hunt.

I glanced towards the staircase. Benji had been near thirty minutes if on queue, I heard footsteps on the wooden stairs. I turned, a minor tinge of disappointment forming in the pit of my stomach as I recognized Benji. He took a seat across from me, a new element of sadness in his eyes as he watched me.

"How is he?" I asked softly.

He was silent for a moment, his gaze distant. He watched me for a moment, an unusual seriousness about him.

"Better," he muttered in low voice, reaching forward to pour two glasses.

He re-corked the bottle, pushing the first of the glasses towards me.

"Could you take this up to him for me?" He asked.

I nodded slowly. I took the glass, slowly crossing the room towards the thin wooden staircase. My footsteps echoed with every step—a dull, hollow thud that matched the sensation in the pit of my stomach. I reached the top floor, pausing as I heard Brandt exhale loudly from the room on my left. I took a step forward, hesitating before I stepped in the doorway. I could see the glass shaking slightly in my hands, circles forming across the amber liquid. I inhaled slowly, running a hand through my hair to push it away from my face. I turn the corner into the room, pausing in the doorway. Brandt sat on an bench the end of bed, his back to me as he stared motionlessly through the window. Whether he saw me or not, he didn't acknowledge me. I walked forward slowly, taking a seat on the bench beside him. Only then did he glance towards me. Though I recognized the lack of optimism in his eyes, I recognized the sadness, disappointment and guilt that lay behind it. His gave me a small smile.

"Hey," he muttered softly.

"Hey," I responded.

_What should I say? _I'm sorry? Forgive me for thinking of you as a cynical ass—I never knew you were plagued by guilt because a woman your crew was in charge of watching was brutally murdered, and I'm sorry our team just failed again—the very team that the wife's husband is leading. Instead, I simply handed him the glass. He reached for it, his fingers brushing mine as his hand closed around the glass. I looked down, feeling my cheeks grow warm. His touch lingered, his fingers resting over mine before he finally took the glass. He glanced up, his eyes meeting mine.

"Are you alright?" He asked.

I nodded slowly, giving him a small smile. He exhaled slowly, glancing towards the window as he took a sip.

"Jane shouldn't have said what she did," he started suddenly, "It was wrong. She should have never blamed you. There was nothing you or anyone else could do."

I swallowed, nodding slowly. I knew deep down, despite the heavy guilt that seemed to weigh down my every though and motion, he was right. I inhaled shakily, my eyes beginning to burn. I stared hard at the floor. _I will not cry. I will not cry. _The floor was old and worn, with fine cracks and scrapes across its surface. I frowned as I watched single tear splash against the floor, hovering for a moment before it was absorbed into the wood. I exhaled slowly as another fell to takes it place. _Why me? Why was I chosen for this position? Why did Hendricks destroy the Kremlin? Why did I have to be dragged out of bed, at four in the morning, to take part in this hell? _

_Why did the secretary have to die?_

_Why, when for once, there was a plan, there was a goal, there was order—did Lisenker have to die? _ Why did the world ever have to be so fucked up? And why the hell did I have to be dragged into it? _Why? WHY?_

I inhaled sharply, more tears beginning to fall. I felt a hand on my back.

"Shh, Erin don't cry," Will said softly, a pleading edge to his voice, "Please don't cry."

I wiped my face with the back of my hand, sighing shakily.

"Why Will?" I asked, "Why did any of this have to happen?"

I stared hard at the ceiling. _Why did he have to be the one to see me cry? _His hand rubbed small circles into my back.

"Shh, Erin, baby, please don't cry," he said, the growing strain in his voice clear.

"Why did Lisenker have to die?" I asked after pause, looking up at Brandt for the first time, "He had a family: a wife and a son. And I wanted to tell him so desperately that they were ok…but if Lisenker was of no use, then what incentive did Hendricks have to keep them alive? All that time, he had done as he was told to ensure his family would be alright. And they're dead…I know they're dead."

I paused, my voice catching in my throat.

"Why Will?" I sighed, "Why?"

He said nothing, but wrapped his arm around me as he pulled me towards his chest. He reclined against the bed, his left hand stroking my hair.

"I don't know," he sighed slowly.

I wiped my face with my hand, resting it gently on his chest. I sniffed, exhaling shakily.

"Please don't cry Erin," he murmured, his arms gently tightening around me.

We were silent for a moment. He stroked my hair softly, his chin resting gently on the top of my head. I could hear his heart beating in my chest, a calm echoing pulse.

"When I was twelve," Will started slowly, "My family lived in a small town near San Jose. The family next door to us consisted of this elderly couple. Just the sweetest old couple you could ever know.

Well one day, my brother and I are tossing a baseball in the backyard when we hear sirens. We run to the front of the house to see an ambulance outside of their home. Found out the next day that the wife had died of a heart attack. Well, the man's health wasn't that well, and it didn't take but a week for him to wind up in the hospital too. And I remember that Sunday, my mom took my brother and I to the hospital to go visit him, and the whole ride there, I couldn't help imagine the pain that man felt—the love of his life for some seventy-odd years just…gone. Well we get there and my family's just standing outside the room talking with the man's kids, so I go inside. And there he was—frail as ever, hooked up to all these fancy machines and all. So I tell him I'm sorry."And this man—the old, frail, dying man—looks up at me, and he tells me that he doesn't have much longer. But then out of nowhere, he smiles—this ridiculous happy smile—and he tells me 'I'm going to see my Maria again, my beautiful, beautiful, Maria.'

A week later, we attend his funeral. And all the while, I remembered that as much as we missed the couple, they were together again. And they were happy."

I closed my eyes, adjusting myself against his chest.

Despite the tears that continued to fall down my face, for the first time in the past few days, I feel calm.

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><p>I sat at the table twiddling my thumbs absentmindedly at the table. Despite the madness we'd just endured, I couldn't help but wish there was something to do. A movie would be great right now, I mused. Or perhaps a book. Yes, books were good. I always loved to read. Not really much time for it anymore though. I glanced around the room. It was a quaint little place for its size, given the circumstances. Couldn't ask for much more than that at the moment, now could we? Nonetheless…I glanced about the place once more. It was quiet—with Jane having left to shower and Brandt and Erin off to wallow in each others misery. Wait, that sounded a tad harsh—commiserate perhaps? Yes, that'll do. Where were they any way? And where was Ethan? I stood up slowly, pushing myself away from the table. I tiptoed across the room towards the staircase. Why was a tip-toeing? There really wasn't a need. <em>Why were these stairs so creaky? <em>It was bloody annoying. I arrived at the top of the stairs, edging around the corner towards the small hallway that led to the two small bedrooms. _Wonder how many people originally stayed here? _I paused in the doorway to the room, spying Brandt sitting where he was when I last saw him. I entered the room softly. _He was at an odd angle now wasn't he? _As I got closer, I spied the top of Erin's head beside him. I paused when I reached them. _No wonder. _They were asleep. _And quite comfortably, I might add…_ Erin was laying against his chest, while Brandt reclined on the bench to lay against the edge of the bed. His right arm lay beside him on the bench, while his left hand rested on her shoulder, holding her against him. They looked peaceful to say the least—Erin was clearly less miserable than she had been an hour or so earlier. _Had Brandt told her? _Hmm, I doubted it. Why throw that into the mix now? He too seemed better—calmer and much less upset. I watched the two sleep for a moment longer, feeling myself grow tired all the while. _I wonder what would have happened between the two off them—_what with the world about to end and all, having failed to get the codes for Hendricks. _Hmm. _I turned towards the door, leaving the room as I returned to the table downstairs. I sat down again, pouring myself another drink. _Let's just hope Hunt knows what the hell he's doing._

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><p><em><strong>Told you I would get one up ASAP :) So, whatcha thinking? hmm? hmm? HMM? I'm interested to hear what you all have to offer. And sorry for the awkward chapter updatingnot really updating debacle earlier today. Not entirely sure how I missed that when publishing. Anyways, as always,**_

_** I'm the writer. You're the reader. And Readers Read On!**_

_**~Case H.**_


	10. Fate

**_William Brandt _**

I woke up with a start, my heart pulsing quickly in my chest as my eyes adjusting to the dark. In a moment, my mind registered the room around me. It was dark. Little moved or sounded from the streets below the open window across the room. I sat up slowly, becoming increasingly aware of the presence besides me. For a moment my instincts reigned, and my mind raced through the given scenario and options I had in the little room. The senses immediately calmed as they spied Erin, asleep on the bed besides me. I inhaled deeply, locking my fingers behind my neck.

_Ethan wasn't back. _

_How else would we have stayed asleep this long? _

I glanced towards Erin again. She lay on her stomach, her face turned away from me as she slept. Her back rose gently with each breath, falling at a measured pace like a tide. In spite of myself, I felt a similar sense of calm build within myself as I watched her. Slowly, I frowned, turning away from her to face the open window again.

_She shouldn't be here. _

_None of us should be. _

She was at peace now, but it would not be long before she would wake up, and the troubles of the world would pervade and prevail in every ounce of her being once more.

_She shouldn't be here. _

But who could tell her that? She was capable, I'd give her that, but she was stubborn as hell. How many disputes had we had over situation analyses, because she had seem a minor issue with the report, and refused to deem it presentable until said issue, and menial evidence to support it, were recorded. _How she had grated my nerves some days… _I exhaled, laughing to myself. It was amusing to think of how trivial these problems now seemed.

_And to think this was the path her life was supposed to take. _

She was the next Ethan. I'd heard the words straight from the secretary's mouth. It wasn't an option or choice. It was a decided fact; she had no say in the matter. I doubted her stubborn disposition would take to kindly to that decision. I wouldn't be surprised if that was what delayed the secretary's decision to tell her. He planned to tell her after we returned from Moscow. I exhaled slowly. _And look how well that turned out. _Though the IMF was dissolved, I felt she still had the right to know. I mean, she had to know she was good at what she does, but did she comprehend the full extent of her potential? How good could she be if she knew? What could happen if she didn't?

Half a dozen other organizations had wanted her when the IMF had contacted her. I frowned at the thought. There was a reason agents were burned and disavowed: they were too dangerous for their own good, or so certain corporations believed. What if the person turned on them and went rogue? Who could stop them? And what would rival agencies think? Any one who knew of Erin's potential certainly would not be fans of her. I knew all to well the consequences of that mindset. Even the best agents could fall victim to a hit squad once it was hired and its targets are set. Anyone would be naïve to think hit squads were only used against enemies. It was social Darwinism at its finest, and even friends could be perceived as disposable rivals should the proper scenario emerge. For all we knew, there could be a plot to take her out now—to dispose of the future threat she might become in the future—even with the IMF disavowed. And she wouldn't even know what had hit her.

_She had to be told. _

But when? Was it worth the risk of waiting? I exhaled, memories of the detail in Croatia causing a sickening sense of despair to form in the pit of my stomach. I had taken a risk then too. And she had died. I ran my hands across my face.

_Not Erin. I wouldn't let her die because I failed to act. _

I exhaled quietly.

_But the secretary was dead._

_And every ounce of resentment and betrayal she felt would be directed towards me._

I inhaled slowly, standing slowly. Erin exhaled softly, turning to lie on her back. He reached down, gently moving her hair away from her face. _She was so beautiful when she slept. _She stirred slightly, turning in her sleep to face me. I stroked her face, trailing my thumb along her cheek. _She would never look at me the same after I told her. _She would never look at any of this the same. But she had to know, even if it were but a momentary precursor to what would become of her in the end.

* * *

><p><strong>No, I'm still alive, and rest assured, this story shall continue :) I'm currently typing up 2-3 more chapters (goal to have future chapters typed in order to update when I don't have time to write!). So:<strong>

**Gasp! What shall happen? (I KNOW! ... but what do you all think?)**

**And as promised, slight non-canon mini-mission to come :)**

-For all those that messaged me, concerning the story-I thank you for your concern, and oui mes chers enfants, the story shall continue! (Also, any other questions? Concerns? Plot suggestions? Let me know! :) )

Until then, I am the writer. You are the reader. Readers Read On!

~Case H.


	11. Backup

**Yes, that's right. I just updated again. So save your comments about the brevity of the last chapter :) and read on! ~Case H. **

It was late when Ethan finally returned. I sat on the arm of Benji's chair, as Ethan detailed the current status of our predicament. Brandt leaned against the far wall, his arms crossed, his eyes staring towards the ground at Ethan's feet. I glanced towards him, giving him a quick smile as his eyes met mine. His mouth turned up in a small smile that did not quite reach his eyes. I frowned as he turned away. _There was something different about him. _Perhaps, upon learning of his past, it was merely an emptiness in his eyes that I never recognized. _But there was something else…_Something else was bothering him. I had attempted to talk to him after I had awoken this evening but his responses had been short, and after a few minutes I had simply given up. As if on cue, Ethan had entered, putting off any future attempts to talk with him. _I wanted to thank him…to make sure he was alright… But… _I guess I should just follow his lead and act as if nothing had happened. He had just said what he did so I would push Lisenker into the back of my mind and move on… _all for the sake of the mission. _

_Right?_

"We're headed to Mumbai?" Jane asked, interrupting my thoughts as she looked up from her place at table.

"Not quite," Ethan continued, "We need to obtain access to Nath's Security Quarters. They include a series of passages that will give us full access to the house, and it will provide Benji with direct access to Nath's computer system."

"Bit excessive if we can just hack it from outside, eh?" Benji mused.

"We have one shot," Ethan continued, "We stop Hendricks now or never. We won't have another chance before Hendrick's initiates a global nuclear war. If this adds any certainty to our plan, then it is worth it."

_He had a point. _We wouldn't get a second chance like we did at the Burj Khalifah. _The plan seemed relatively foolproof: get in, get the codes from Nath, hack the computer and down the satellite before Hendricks could launch a nuclear strike. We would be pressed for time, but the external factors—such as those presented by security systems accessed solely by external means—would be relatively minimal. _

"And how do we get this access?" Jane asked, standing to lean against the front of the table.

"A key," Ethan replied.

Brandt raised a doubtful eyebrow while Jane stared blankly at Ethan. _A key? _As in a single, metal key? From our past experiences, I knew full well that this was probably not near as easy as it sounded. _Probably over a pit of jagged rocks, on a rickety ridge in the Himlayas…with snipers… Something to that effect. _Benji snorted loudly.

"A key?" Benji laughed, "Are you telling me this billionaire controls access to his mansion's security infrastructure with a single bloody metal key?"

"The key is magnetically encoded," Ethan continued, "Similar to a credit card. However, the codes contain blueprints of Nath's mansion, the layouts of his security system, and the codes to access these. Now, Benji should be able to gain access to mansion's computer system through the ventilation tunnels beneath it. However, should this plan fail, or new problems arise, we need a backup. We need Benji in place so Brandt can access the computer. If the plan fails, we have nothing, and Hendricks will successfully launch the nuclear strike."

"Well then, where is this magical key?" Benji asked, clapping his hands together.

"With Nath," Ethan replied.

I stared at Ethan, raising an eyebrow. _So to get inside Nath's mansion, we need to get inside Nath's mansion to get to him? _I frowned. _Ethan, please have a plan…._The last thing any of us needed was another failed plan. Brandt said nothing, but exhaled loudly.

"How do we get it?" Jane asked.

"My sources have informed me that Nath is currently in Dubai, preparing to attend an event in at a location known as the Western Sun. Tonight, where our goal will be to infiltrate the Western Sun, where we will exchange Nath's encoded key with a replica. The replica should allow Nath temporary virtual and physical access to his mansion, but it does not contain the detailed layouts and security codes that we need. Before Nath suspects his key has been tampered, we will have succeeded in stopping Hendricks, or be on our way a global nuclear war."

Ethan's final words seemed to ring through the room. I shuttered at the thought. _In a matter of weeks, half the world could be vaporized. _Millions of people would die if Hendricks got his way. And we five were all that stood in his way. He had the codes. He had the device. Once he had Nath's satellite, it was only a matter of time. _True,_ _my experience in the field was limited to a handful of haphazard days in the field, including our most recent debacle, in which we had failed, and nearly gotten ourselves killed. _But none of it mattered anymore. The IMF was disavowed. We failed at the Burj Khalifah. Hendricks had the codes. If we wanted the slightest hope of succeeding, we needed to work with what we had now.

"What do you need us to do?" I asked.

The room glanced towards me in surprise.

"It's going to take all five of stop Hendricks," I started, glancing around the room, "What happened at the Burj Khalifah happened, and as much as all of us wish it had gone differently, it's done."

I swallowed as images of Lisenker floated across my conscious. I closed my eyes, thinking of what Brandt had said. _They would be together now. _Even if Linseker had lived, his family would have dead. I exhaled, opening my eyes. I glanced towards Brandt, hoping to meet his gaze. Instead, he stared hard at the wall across from him, his brow furrowed. _For the moment, he would have to move on. We needed him. As we needed Ethan, and Jane, and Benji. _ Ethan paused, before nodding slowly.

"Benji, get us a layout of the Western Sun. We need a way to get in, and a way to get out, plus an entrance for the rest of us should something go wrong—we need all of us in and out, alive."

Ethan turned towards Brandt as Benji hurried to open the laptop at the table. He reached in his pocket, producing folded sheet of paper. He held it towards Brandt.

"Brandt, I need you to identify the people on this list. We need to know who they are, and whether or not they are related to Hendricks.

Brandt hesitated, his jaw tightening as he broke his stare with the wall. He stood straight, looking up towards Ethan.

"Ethan," he started, "I… two years ago…"

For a moment, I felt my heart begin to beat rapidly in my chest._ I knew Brandt had to tell him, if not out of a dutiful necessity then a personal one, but what would Ethan say?_ _What could Ethan say?_ But before Brandt could speak,Ethan waved him off.

"Erin's right Brandt," Ethan started, "I don't care about what you've done in the past."

Brandt opened his mouth to speak, but Ethan waved him off again.

"It's over," Ethan stated, holding the list towards Brandt.

Brandt hesitated, exhaling loudly as he took this list and moved to take a seat across from Benji. Ethan turned towards Jane and I.

"Jane, I need you as physical backup in the Western Sun. Anything goes down, I need you to make sure the key is secured, and that we are out in one piece."

Jane nodded slowly, taking a step towards Ethan.

"And what about you two?" she asked, glancing up towards me.

For a moment our eyes met. She offered me a small smirk—what I took to be a temporary apology. I offered a quick smirk in return, before turning to Ethan. _Jane did have a point… what was I doing? _

"Ethan?" I asked.

The second his eyes met mine, I knew I would regret having asked.

_Abso-fucking-lutely not. _

_Yes…I understood that this was necessary for the sake of stopping Hendricks, and saving the world for a nuclear holocaust, and all that jazz…but…_

"So let me get this straight: we are gain access to the Western Sun by posing as high profile clients, while Jane is present on the roof as physical backup and Brandt and Benji work surveillance…And why can't Jane and I switch roles?"

"We need Jane to provide physical backup," Ethan reiterated.

I opened my mouth to protest again.

"Do you have a better plan that'll work?" Ethan replied.

I opened my mouth then closed it promptly, frowning. I leaned against the table, crossing my arms. _In a few hours, I would be attempting to steal and exchange an encoded key from a billionaire, in order to stop a madman for vaporizing the earth with a nuclear war. And to do so, I would have to gain entrance into the Western Sun….as one of the high-end prostitutes that worked there. Once entry was gained, I would move close to Nash and exchange the key for the fake, by which point he should be far too intoxicated to notice. And should I fail, I would be surrounded by the various multi-millionaires and mob bosses that would be attending…dressed as a hooker. _To think this is where one ends up, after four years of foreign affairs studies at Georgetown… _Still, despite my opposition to the plan, it seemed the least complicated….should it work._

"Besides, the sheiks like 'em young you know?" Benji piped up, "All that whole 'sacrificial virgins' business."

His laugh echoed through the silent room. I sent Benji a dark glare. Brandt looked up from the table, and from his expression I gathered he was equally unimpressed by Benji's 'humor.'

"You're not helping Benji," I retorted.

I crossed my arms, taking a seat at the table. Nothing about this set my nerves at ease. I inhaled slowly, running a hand through my hair. _I had to do this. We need Nath's key. _But if I failed…

"Ethan," Jane piped, "If she's not ready, I can always…"

Ethan waved her off.

"We need you as backup Jane, and we will need you at his ball. Nath would be on edge if he recognized you, and it might jeopardize our chances of obtaining the codes at the ball. We need the key to ensure we will have little difficulty obtaining access to Nath's satellite system," Ethan continued, "It's the best plan we have for the little we have to work with. Carr, if you are unsure of the technicalities of this plan, I need you to speak now, otherwise we need to get a move on."

I sat in the chair, dumbfounded. _Am I unsure? _I have approximately four more hours before I might die, fuck up this mission, send the world into a nuclear war, or, better yet, run in to other unforeseen difficulties that arise when one is supposed to be an escort to billionaires, mob bosses and the like… No Ethan, I am fucking sure of myself—hell, I'm a hundred percent, abso-fucking-lutely sure. I exhaled slowly, clenching my jaw.

"I got it," I muttered under my breath, standing up abruptly, "I just…need a moment."

I crossed the room, my eyes glued to the floor as I headed to the staircase.

* * *

><p><strong>She's not happy. I'll give you that much lol. So thoughtsconcerns/rants/threats to attack the writer with pitchforks on this mini-mission? I figure it might help tie in some other elements I wanted to include into the story without making them seemed rushed, as I believe they would if the story had remained canon. So yes, thought, review, comments, all (except pitchforks) are greatly appreciated. So until next time,**

**I am the writer. You are the reader. Readers Read On!**

**~Case H.**


	12. Now or Never

I pushed open the wooden doors, a wave of cool air rushing past me as I rested against the balcony. I inhaled deeply, attempting to calm myself. _I had to do this. I would do this. _I ran a shaky hand through my hair. _What was I kidding? I couldn't fucking do this. _I learned against the balcony, my stomach lurching. I coughed, holding back the sickening filling growing in the pit of my stomach. _What the hell was I doing? I was an analyst—an analyst! _I read and review files—I did not chase down moving trains or scale impossibly tall buildings_. _I stared blankly into the dark.

_When the hell did I sign up for this shit…_

I sat up straight as footsteps fell on the balcony behind me. I turned sharply.

"Will, I—" I started.

"D'you want me to get him?" Benji asked, signaling towards the stairs as he stepped into the moonlight.

"It's fine," I exhaled slowly, running my hands through my hair.

There was a pause as we stared off towards the city.

"Nervous?" Benji piped up quietly.

_No shit Benji. _I let out a short laugh.

"To say the least," I returned, resting my forearms against the balcony.

Benji moved forward, pausing beside me.

"So am I," he stated slowly, resting against the balcony beside me.

_Great. He's nervous to? _

"And this helps how?" I mumbled dryly.

Benji paused for a second, his brow furrowed, before a look of surprise crossed his face.

"Oh, no no no, not like that—I mean—never mind, that's not what I mean. What I meant," he started, "I meant, you know, this is my first mission too—my first time out in the field."

He paused, taking a moment to collect his thoughts.

"I mean, you're not alone. What you're feeling and all. It's hard on your first mission, but…" he trailed off, staring towards the city, "But it's not impossible. To succeed and all—I mean, it seems that way sometimes, but…"

He paused again, turning towards me.

"I figure I haven't doomed us all yet, and your chance of succeeding is probably higher than mine if you think about it," he concluded.

I nodded slowly, staring towards the city. I wasn't entirely sure of how much I believed him, but at least he believed in me to some degree.

"Did Ethan send you up here to give me a pep talk?" I mused.

Benji let out a short laugh.

"Pep talk and a present," Benji responded.

I raised an eyebrow as Benji placed a small black box on the ledge of the balcony.

"Gear for tonight," he clarified, "Though I'm not entirely sure how all it fits in there."

I reached for the box, lifting it from the balcony as Benji turned towards the stairs.

"I'll be waiting with everyone downstairs," he said, hesitating at the door, "Best of luck tonight, Erin. You'll be alright."

With that he turned towards the door, leaving me alone on the balcony.

* * *

><p>I opened the box, my fingers catching on a red lace edge. <em>'the hell was this even supposed to cover? <em>I held the lace up to my eyes, wondering if Jane had gone out of her way to find a scrap of fabric this impossibly small, or this was merely all they had in stock. I fumbled with lace for a moment before my eyes found the designer tag. _It would be._ I exhaled loudly, tossing it back down on to the bed. I mean sure, half my underwear drawer looked like this anyways. And hell, if I had the occasion, or the resources to drop several hundred dollars on lingerie, I wouldn't hesitate to buy it for a damn second. I laughed dryly to myself.

_How funny life works out sometimes. __Finally decked out in Agent Provacateur and now have to flaunt it._ _In front of Ethan. And Benji. And Brandt… And some of the most powerful and dangerous men in the world. _

_While most would be drunk. _

_And I would be dressed as a prostitute. _

_And our current mission depended on my capacity to steal a key of the person of arguably the most powerful man there. Unnoticed. _

I shook my head, plopping myself down on the edge of the bed._Could this day include any more fun?_

I pulled off my t-shirt, tossing it onto the bed as I reached for the box again. Immediately I noticed an extra-weight I failed to notice. I frowned, unceremoniously flinging the pink tissue paper out of the box and onto the floor. Another dry laugh escaped my lips as my hand brushed something hard at the bottom of the box. _Ha. Haha. Ha. _

_Of course. _

_All this fun and I get to wear four-inch heels too._

_Yippee-ki-yay._

* * *

><p>I sat on the edge of the bed, as I pulled on my right heel. <em>Louboutins. <em>I rolled my eyes, my fingers running across the black embroidery the dotted the satin. _Maybe the high-end prostitution thing wasn't that bad. _I stood up slowly, smirking at my new height. _If by some miracle I survived this, these were mine. _I crossed the room slowly, pausing in front of the glass window to survey my reflection. I raised an eyebrow. _Damn. _That lace covered more than I thought it would, but if anything moved from where it was now...I rolled my eyes.

_Why didn't they just send me in naked? Hell, I was 90% of the way there already...and several hundred dollars more expensive. _I exhaled again, I had no choice in the matter. None of us did. I had to this. I would do this. _Or I jeopardize our chances, and we all end up fucked, alongside the rest of the world.. _I exhaled slowly. _And I thought jumping off a building was FUBAR…_

I exhaled again, running my hands over my face. _Dwelling on that wouldn't help me. _I had to this. I would do this. And I would succeed. _By some miracle of God….._

I walked towards the bed, taking off my Rolex and placing it on top of my t-shirt. With a final glance towards the window, I removed my hair tie, tossing it onto the bed. I moved towards the stairs, hesitating at the landing before descending. I could hear Jane quietly discussing some form of on body camera-system with Ethan, while Brandt was listing off names and occupations of tonight's invitee to Benji. _Brandt. _He hadn't seemed entirely thrilled by Ethan's latest plan, yet he hadn't spoken to me-or frankly, acknowledged me since our conversation earlier this evening. _Brandt, as always: never in a good mood, impossible to decipher. Why did I even bother to try? _I inhaled slowly, running my hands across to my hips to verify nothing had slipped out of place. _Well this was it. _I smirked, running a hand through my hair as I began to descend the stairs.

_The moment I was in eyesight, you would've thought Hendricks had just entered the room to turn himself in and have a round of beers. _

Jane, her hands formally occupied attaching a camera and mic to Ethan's suit, remained still, her eyebrows raised in the closest expression to shock I had seen her make. The smallest traces of an impressed smirk played on the edges of her mouth, no doubt admiring the success of her work. Ethan, besides her dressed in an impeccably well-made suit, stared at me, his blue eyes both impressed and approving as the took in my latest wardrobe. Benji flushed a brilliant red from his place being his laptop, open opening his mouth once, before snapping it shut almost immediately, his eyes darting between and various empty spaces in the room, as if deciding whether or not it was appropriate to stare. Our eyes met for an instant, causing him to flush an even deeper shade of scarlet before he turned to focus his attention entirely on his computer monitor. And Brandt.

As I had entered, Brandt had continued to focus on the sheet of names on the table before him. It was not until the room became impossibly silent that he had then looked up, the bored, unimpressed expression on his face changing instantly. His mouth fell open slightly as his stared, his eyes widening slightly as they slowly wandered from my shoes to lacy straps at my collar bone and back down again. His pale eyes immediately took me in, running along every last lace detail, following them along the curve of my hips, and over my breasts. It wasn't until his eyes met mine that I saw the carnal desire in them. _ How much he wanted to cross the room, to push me up against the wall, to tear off every last shred of that fabric—to hear me scream his name. How much, in that instant, he wanted me. _I could feel my hands on his back, running across the muscled grooves of his abs, my fingers dancing across the tattoo on his chest. Then his expression changed. There was something new: a possessiveness, a concern, and what I could not define but as an trace of weakness in his eyes that I had never seen before. I felt my cheeks redden at the thought, and for a moment I looked away, attempting to compose myself beneath his gaze. I paused for an instant, and in that instant the expression faded, returning to the frustrated look of boredom he always wore. _As if the moment never occurred. _I felt my cheeks burn, as his usual expression effaced any conviction I had had in the verity of his reaction. _Had I honestly had those thoughts about Brandt? _I frowned mentally._ The hell was wrong with me? _I glanced towards Brandt to find him occupied with the monitor on the table before him, his expression bored at most.

"Damn Carr, you clean up well," Jane mused from across the room.

I look up, my thoughts snapping back to the present, my cheeks flushing.

"Any woman wearing this little fabric would clean up well," I mumbled under my breath.

I made my way towards Jane and Ethan, not failing to miss Brandt's back tense out of the corner of my eye as I passed. I exhaled slowly in a mediocre attempt to remove the traces of our latest exchange to the back of my mind. Ethan let out a low whistle as I came to a stop beside him.

"Don't be so sure about that Erin," Ethan chuckled.

I glanced up, my cheeks burning as my eyes met Ethan's. He smirked, giving me a small wink. _Those damn blue eyes of his… _ In his tuxedo, his hair combed back, Ethan was striking to say the least. I heard the sound of chair scraping across the floor.

"So, um, what's the plan?" Benji piped up, standing awkwardly between Ethan and I.

"Our transport arrives in twenty minutes," Ethan started, raising his arm let Jane fasten a wire to his sleeve, "Erin and I will leave from a side street near here, while Benji, Jane, and Brandt will proceed using a secondary transport that will leave several blocks to the south of this location. Once at the Sun, I will provide Erin with cover while she exchanges the keys. Jane will provide armed support from the roof, while Benji maintains control's of the Sun's security system and Brandt provides us with audio and visual support. If all goes according to plan, we should be out before 1."

_The plan didn't sound half bad coming out of Ethan._

"Come here, Carr," Jane said, holding a small silver wire towards me, "We need to get you bugged up."

I made my way towards chain, stopping within a foot of her. We hadn't talked after our most recent episode, and to be perfectly honest, mission or not, I was not in the mood to be anywhere near her. I stared past her towards the wall, my expression blank.

"This is your camera," she said, holding up the rounded end of the wire before she began to attach it to my bra.

I nodded dully. _Why weren't we sending Jane in again? _She was so _very _briefed on the nature of successful missions. I glanced down at the camera as Jane moved to retrieve something from the far end of the table. _At least I wouldn't be alone? _Despite our previous experiences with IMF technology, I couldn't help but feel the slightest traces of relief. Jane returned, holding what looked to be a pair of earrings.

"This is your mic," she replied, handing the earrings to me, "Brandt and Benji will be able to communicate with you should they pick up anything on the cameras or need to contact you."

I nodded again, putting the earrings on.

"Talk normally, and we will be able to hear you if you run into difficulties," Jane continued, making sure the camera and earrings were in place.

"_Check Carr."_

I jumped as Brandt's voice echoed through my head. I turned towards him to find him staring back at me, his expression emotionless. I glared back at him.

"_Mic Check." _He repeated, his voice automatic.

I raised an eyebrow at him, but he merely turned back to the list in front of him.

"Yeah," I mumbled in response, turning my back to him to face the table. _Make up your mind Brandt. I'm stressed enough as it is without having to decipher your mood swings._

I glanced towards the table, pretending to survey the various electronics we still had. I could feel Jane's eyes on me. _Did she have anything else to add to today's comments? _ Ethan's phone rang, leaving the two of us to stand alone near the table. I picked up an object closely resembling an iphone, flipping it over in my hand.

"You alright kid?" Jane asked.

I raised an eyebrow, turning the phone over in my hand.

"No one for me to let die on this mission this time, eh?" I replied dryly.

There was a pause as a look of hurt passed across Jane's face. I replaced the phone on the table, reaching for small pair of binoculars. Jane inhaled slowly, staring towards the wall before turning back to me.

"I shouldn't have said that Erin," Jane started slowly, "I—"

She trailed off, and for a moment her demeanor was distant. I replaced the binoculars, turning my attention towards her.

"I lost someone once," she continued slowly, "I know what you feel. There was nothing you could do."

She paused, looking down at the floor.

"There was nothing I could do," she started again slowly, "I should have never said that to you."

"I hope you can forgive me Erin," she said finally.

I stood there, my anger slowly replaced by a dull sense of confusion. _Did Jane just apologize to me? _To be perfectly honest, every ounce of me wanted to shoot back a dry 'no' in response and walk away. _But what good did that serve? _While I was trying not to get us all killed, Jane would be in charge of covering my ass if all else failed. _Quite frankly, I needed her on this mission as much as she needed me._

I nodded slowly.

"I get out of this alive, we'll talk," I mused.

Jane nodded once before, giving me a small smile.

"I got your back kid."

I nodded, turning back to face the center of the room. Benji had returned to his computer monitor while Ethan stood in a corner conversing on his phone in a low voice. Brandt sat besides him, his eyes glued to this list before him.

"Let's get a move on," Ethan announced, leaving his corner of the room to move towards the center of the room, "Our ride will meet us in ten. You three will have an additional thirty minutes to prepare yourselves before you all are transported to the Sun. Once we have arrived at the Sun, Erin will be assisted by Brandt and Benji monitoring the security system, while I remain with Erin, and in contact with Jane, who will be providing support from the roof if necessary."

I nodded, the butterflies returning to my stomach. Ethan reached towards the table, handing me a long dark coat. I pulled it on, taking a final glance towards Brandt and Benji.

"Brandt will inform you about the club en route," Ethan stated.

Brandt looked up at the sound of his name, his expression tired. The briefest expression of sympathy appeared in his eyes they met mine before he turned his attention to Ethan.

"Ready?" Ethan asked, offering me a coat from the table.

I inhaled slowly before nodding once, taking the coat in my hand. I took a final glance around the room, an unusual pang in my stomach. _This might be the last time I'm in this room alive. _I inhaled slowly, taking a final glance at the four people in the room around me before nodding once more.

"Now or never," I replied slowly.

**I blame Paris. Damn city was distracting me...ok fine. I have no excuse, except that I will update more frequently. Alright, now to address the many people who wrote to me:**

**1. Who does Erin look like?**

**To be perfectly honest, when I create an Oc for a story, I rarely have a specific person in mind (or at least to the point where I can clearly say they most definitely look like this actor or actress), both because 1. as an OC writer, and someone who becomes easily annoyed when characters are out of character (hence OC to avoid that drama), so it can be difficult to find an actor/actress that works so perfectly that I can genuinely imagine them as my OC 2. People are opinionated-hence you give them someone and they dont like the actress/actor, or dont find them attractive, or fitting the character...etc... **

**NONETHELESS,**

**To the first point, after much searching I think I have found an actress and two the second point, "Frankly my dear, I dont give a damn" whether you like her or not. **

**So Erin Carr looks like the lovely actress Megalyn Echikunwoke **

** MediaBin/Galleries/Shows/A_F/Cq_Cz/CSI_ **

**2. Will I finish this story? **

**I already have. At least in my mind, I've got it all plotted out. Now to figure out how to convert that to writing in a sensible manner!**

**3. REVIEW! I love hearing your reviews and messages. I read them all - and definitely love what you all have to say! Let me know what you're thinking**

**And with that,**

**I am the writer. You are the readers. Readers Read On!**

**~Case H. **


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